


Resurgence

by sp00kworm



Category: Castlevania, Castlevania: Lords of Shadow, Castlevania: Mirror of Fate, Dracula - Bram Stoker, 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: After events of LoS2, Arguments, Based loosely on Bram Stoker's Dracula, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Chaos Claws, Crissaegrim, Explicit Language, F/M, Fate, Father-Son Relationship, Feeding, Feels, Fighting, Future, Graphic Violence, Masamune, Memories, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Mirror of Fate, Sanity and Insanity, The Prince of Darkness, The Wolf Son of Dracula, Violence, Visions, Void Sword, father-son bonding, relics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2018-04-30 13:11:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5165045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sp00kworm/pseuds/sp00kworm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The infected and followers of Satan have all been extinguished. Monsters are a rarity and the world seems to teeter on the thin line of peace. The world has rebuilt itself after the night of chaos and death, and life has returned to some sort of normality with people having long since returned to work and running through the daily routine of life. The Prince of Darkness, however, has been cooped up in his Castle, slowly falling between the lines of reality and memory as he looses his grip on his own mind. What will the finding of a chest amongst the rubble do for his sanity? Perhaps a revelation is what he needs in order to regain his grip on the reality of the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Relic Amidst the Ruin.

Long after Dracula's final fight against his old nemesis Satan, he'd found himself a little without purpose. Eliminating the demons and infected still on the earth had consumed his time for many, many months after Satan's demise. But, eventually the monsters had stopped crawling from their holes, and had stopped appearing all together. Alucard often reported that there were no monsters left to hunt. Those that had caused issue to begin with were all but gone, destroyed and in ashes. Those that could've posed a threat about a millennia ago were scattered. Activity was lacking, to say the least, and Dracula found himself increasing spending time wandering the Castle or reading books in his library. He found his muscles slowly becoming more and more lethargic as he spent night after night cooped up indoors, fairly alone, haunted by the voices of his past. Time and time again he had seen Marie saunter around the halls, her white dress spinning as she did, laughing and smiling as Gabriel followed, a smile curling his usual frown upwards. She would laugh and laugh until he caught her hand and pulled her towards him. Marie would turn in his arms, her laughter like the chime of a bell, and smile forlornly before kissing the corner of his lips, and disappearing, leaving him to hug naught but the air where she once was. 

The walls groaned around him as he strolled and reminisced about his old life. The life when he was blissfully unaware of his fate and the betrayal that contorted and plotted all around him. He'd been an acquaintance of Zobek then, unaware of his deigns and true nature. He'd been unaware of everything going on around him, how the world stormed ahead without his say so. He'd been dragged into his destiny, his fate, and never once had he attempted to fight it. He was a warrior, no, the Warrior of Light, good and true, but his God had made him into a Prince of Darkness. A fallen one, destined to walk in shadows and feast off blood with power unrivalled, now by no one. His fate was cruel, but it was what he was destined to become. A destiny most cruel. But a vital role. Sometimes he would sneer up at the heavens, much like Satan had at his father, but his hate was not that of being banished to the darkness, but one of his immortality. His curse was to walk forever on the earth. His fate was one that kept him away from the love of his life. It kept him chained to the earth and away from Marie. 

Dracul found himself losing hours of the night in a stupor of reality and memory. He'd merely close his eyes for a moment and open them to see Marie and Trevor. She'd smile and curl up on the lounge chair next to him, her brown eyes twinkling as she observed the young boy jump at his father giggling and holding wooden figures of them all. Trevor would exclaim, “I want to be just like you father!” before he moved the large figure of Gabriel against a large Werewolf. As always, he would make his father win and make the dying whining noises of the wolf. Gabriel would return home and greet them both before Trevor described them being happy together. Marie would chuckle from behind his shoulder and lean her head on top of the cool leather of his coat, wrapping her slender arms around his neck. He would turn his head and smile, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before taking her hand and kissing the warm skin. She'd take his face in her palms and kiss him soundly. Then the reality shifted again and he'd peer through drowsy eyes. The room would be lit by a fire in the hearth and the crackle of the wood would become evident. As his gaze focused he'd sit up and peer around the room, dazed and a little confused. Alucard would always be across from him, a small smile on his face and a book in his hand. Dracula would sigh and Alucard would always reply with, “I guess you had another visit from mother?”.

This night was little different. Dracula's eyelids fluttered as he regained himself and reality warped back into place. A growl rumbled in his chest as he pushed himself up, off the cool leather of the large lounge seat. He rubbed at his forehead. The crackle of the fire was almost deafening to his sensitive ears as he adjusted to the surroundings after his lapse. He opened his crimson eyes to meet the golden gaze of his son, who was perched in a large arm chair opposite him, his boots resting on an over stuffed foot stool. Dracul heaved himself up, onto his feet and bent his neck to the side, the satisfying crack helping to ease the stiffness. Alucard sighed, shuffling in his seat as he passed the book he held across to his other hand. His eyes were strangely intense, the black surrounding the gold irises making them seem only more bottomless, like a void.  
“Father you have to stop this.” Dracula only grumbled lowly, dangerously, in his chest.  
“Stop what, son.” His flippant tone would have been a warning to most to halt their line of questioning, but Alucard had never been deathly afraid of his father.  
“Stop falling for the illusions. She has moved on, father. All you are seeing are spectacles of your own imagination.” He found himself whipping around with his fury seeping from its container.  
“Do you think I wish for it to happen!? Do you think I want to fall for these illusions and taunts?! Do you, son? I fall for them because I am tired! I am sick of being on this earth, doomed to walk it and protect it against the evil that faces me! I have done His bidding for years yet he still asks me to protect the world He created!” Alucard held steadfast against the anger of his maker, his face stoic but his eyebrows furrowing in anger. He bit back his retort and sighed.  
“All I ask is that you do something other than rot in this hell hole. You have been cooped up in here since the end to the monsters. At least get away from this pit and its box of dark tricks. Being here with the endless workings of the castle will not help you.” The castle had long ago accepted that its master was back, but still, his blood had a mind of its own at times and animated the stone structures to move around and agitate him. It's powers were limited but still great enough to fool him with whimsical illusions.

Dracula found himself silently agreeing with his son, though his pride would not allow him to openly admit that Alucard was, in fact, correct. His dark crimson coat rippled over the backs of his calves as he paced the length of the room, his arms folded at the base of his back with his clawed fingers interlinked. Alucard followed his father's movements, his eyes watching carefully as Dracula glided along the stone, his boots clicking gently against the cobbles.  
“You know I am right, father. You need to escape this place for a while, get out and do something other than gorge yourself on blood and lounging in chairs.” His father shot him a glare as he strode around the room, his dark hair sweeping over his shoulders as he moved. Dracul came to a halt in front of the fire and bore into the flames, their reflections dancing across his crimson gaze.  
“I know exactly what you want me to do, son. You want me to go and amuse myself in a way that does not involve the death of humans...am I correct?” Alucard snorted from his place within the depths of the arm chair. He swept a tinted, clawed hand across the room in a vague gesture.  
“My word would not stop you anyway, father.” Dracula found a chuckle escaping him despite his dark mood.  
“Indeed, it would not.” He carefully placed a palm against the darker stone of the hearth and rapped his black claws against it rhythmically, thoughts flooding his mind. As soon as he opened his mouth a strange black smog and whirling noise cut him off. 

Chupacabra appeared in a small swirl of black smog, his spinning coming to a halt as the cloud dissipated. The dwarf like being grinned and threw his stubby arms out with a flat toothed grin, his blue irises twinkling with mischief against the black surrounding them. He grinned with glee as he span and did a little dance, clapping his bandaged hands together during the jig.  
“Ha ha! My prince! I have something to tell you! Oh! And you lord wolf! Oh most excited I am my lords!” Dracula felt his eyebrow twitch in annoyance as the small, timeless being danced across the stones and around his legs, his hands clasped together and his eyes hopeful. Alucard cracked a smile. He was often entertained by Chupacabra's antics, which greatly annoyed his father. Chupacabra giggled and Dracula glared down at the dwarf as he tugged on the leather of his coat and clutched his leg, wrapping his stubby arms around the thick muscle.  
“Powerful one, can I tell you? Can I show you my lords! They are most rare, yes, most rare indeed!” The small immortal drew out the 'ee' and did another jig around Alucard's arm chair. The smile on Chupacabra's face crinkling the thick, black painted vertical lines on his face. Dracula strode forward with a snarl.  
“Calm yourself! Make another move and you'll be locked in a cage again quicker than you can blink!” Chupacabra instantly stilled, wringing his hands in front of him as he looked at the ground a little ashamed, but mostly terrified of being thrown into the dungeon again.  
“Yes, my prince. Sorry oh great one.” Alucard flapped his hand at his father with a curious smile. He looked down at the dwarf and chuckled.  
“What have you discovered Chupacabra?” 

Chupacabra peered up at Dracula with a meek smile. He opened his mouth, only to be silenced when his master held up a single ashen palm, his eyebrows furrowed in irritation as his crimson gaze glowed and dragged itself to look the dwarf in the eye.  
“Pull one of your tricks, and it'll be the last thing you ever do...This better be worth my time.” Alucard chuckled at his father, still rather amused by the annoyance he was openly displaying. Chupacabra did a small hop before shaking his body and disappearing in another cloud of black smog. Both vampires blinked and waited for the small creature to reappear with his amazing find, both perhaps equally as sceptical and curious as to what the device may be. Chupacabra had a knack for coming across strange and powerful relics, and Dracula had often fell victim to the dwarf's tricks, thus resulting in the dungeon for the tiny immortal, but sometimes, his finds amongst the ruins were quite intriguing. Apart from his find of a Blood Pixie cage, which he promptly opened, allowing the small black eyed creatures to escape and raise havoc throughout his castle as they chased his minions, Chupacabra had found a few useful pieces for Dracula to use. Despite this, he still remembered the frightful winged pixies, who even managed to latch themselves onto one of his Scavens, and drain the blood from the hound like creature. This had occurred a few years before Chupacabra's banishment to the cage in the dungeon, but it was clearly, in Dracula's mind, a strike against the poor creature's name.

It only took a few minutes for Chupacabra to reappear, shaking his whole body as it rippled back into place in the room, the smoke floating off into the corners of the dimly lit room. He held a chunky ebony wood box in his small bandaged palms. Metal adorned the lid and the rims of the dark coloured wood, some tinted orange with rust. The latch was held firmly in place with a large lion head padlock. Alucard raised an eyebrow at the rusty chest and gazed at Chupacabra with a disappointed look.  
“You brought a chest? I think you might want to brace yourself for a day over the lava pit.” The younger vampire pressed his spine back into the stuffing of the chair and tried to suppress a smirk that curled the very corners of his lips upwards. Dracula glowered down at Chupacabra and held a hand out for the chest. Head bowed, the small immortal handed over the ancient chest and watched as the Prince of Darkness fingered the lock, turning the wooden case over in his palms as he examined the metal decorations. His crimson gaze snapped towards the cowering dwarf next to him.  
“Explain then. What it it?” Chupacabra swallowed but grinned, happy to have somewhat entertained his master and lord.  
“Well, my prince, I think it is a relic of some sorts. Inside the case I mean. But the lock, you see sire, is enchanted. No matter what I do, it wont open, so...” The small creature grew quiet and interlocked his bandaged hands before he swallowed thickly, and began wringing them in a nervous gesture, “I was wondering, oh excellency, if you could...maybe open it?”

The room grew deadly silent as Dracula strode across to the large, wall length, glass window and held the box up to the moon light. Alucard observed his father and Chupacabra fidget, his nerves taking over due to his prior experience with the great vampire lord. A deep, dark laughter filled the room, bouncing off the stone sharply before echoing down the hall. Dracul grinned, his sharp white fangs glittering dangerously. Alucard raised his eyebrows in confusion at his father's outburst and Chupacabra flinched, expecting something to go flying his way. The Prince of Darkness pointed to the lock with a black claw.  
“At last we find some sort of trick or puzzle that you cannot get through Chupacabra!” He continued to laugh, the sound harsh and cruel to the ears, as he held the box up once more and focused in on the lock holding the lid firmly closed. 

Before Dracula could even touch the padlock again, it burst to life and the key hole snapped closed, out of sight as the lion head huffed. It swung gently on the loop of metal it was clicked around and the tarnished metal of it's eyes swivelled in their sockets to look at the vampire lord in front of it. It snorted and clicked it's metallic mouth, its iron tongue moving as it spoke.  
“You'll not 'ave the contents of this box Prince of Darkness! Scourge! Murderer! Monster!” Dracula scowled and Alucard leant forward in his armchair, fascinated by the enchanted creature on the box. Chupacabra thumped his forehead with his small chubby hand.  
“Oh my saints tears! This explains why my chants would not work. Its a creature attached to the box not a normal lock!” Alucard stood from his chair and strode over in an instant, his golden eyes gazing at the creature, and his eyebrows furrowed as he thought. The lock growled at him and snapped its mouth open and closed again, it's jaw clicked and scrapped harshly as it formed words.  
“What're you lookin' at Wolf Son?! Scourge! Murderer! Monster!” Alucard growled lowly at the creature and forcefully tugged at the lock. The creature hissed in pain and annoyance, and snapped at Alucard's fingers as he pulled his hand away. Dracula grumbled to himself, rubbing his temples as he felt the pressure of a headache building behind them. The lock growled again.  
“Keep your hands to yourself laddie!” Dracula hissed and whirled around, ripping the box from Alucard's hands before he swiftly gripped the babbling creature in his palm. The lion head spat and hissed like a cat in his grasp and he growled back.  
“Cease your chatter creature, and I might let you live.” The lock only screamed louder and, having come to the end of his patience, Dracula dug his claws behind the metal of the latch and pulled. The metal groaned in protest but peeled away from the wood like the skin off of an apple. The lock creature screamed and howled at him but fell quiet as the metal gave away with a snap.

Chupacabra giggled in joy and ran over, his mood jovial as he pulled the lock from Dracula's hand and waved a bandaged hand at the creature. The lion growled and grabbed hold of his hand with it's tough metal teeth. Dracula and Alucard ignored the tiny immortal's cries and crowded together around the box. With a gentle push, the dark ebony lid fell back against the table to reveal a large crystal ball. The crystal was no larger than a human head, seated on a dusty, tattered purple cushion embroidered with golden leaves and curling, swirling ivy. The bottom was empty except for the pillow, and of course, the seeing ball. Dracula grumbled deep in his chest and slowly turned to look at Chupacabra, who had just finished prying the lock from his small hand and had won the tiny battle. Chupacabra grimaced and looked up, flinching under the glowing red gaze of his master, who was evidently unamused by the revelation of a large glass ball in a chest. Before Chupacabra could even begin to chant, Dracula had him the the back of his neck and dragged him towards the table.  
“Tell me what it is then.” He deposited a quivering Chupacabra on top of the table and reclined himself in the arm chair where Alucard was previously sat. Alucard observed from against a bookcase, his arms crossed across his chest and his back resting against the solid wood. 

Chupacabra huffed, pushing himself up onto his feet and pulled the crystal ball from it's box, turning the glass over in his hands. A grin wormed its way back onto his face as he placed the ball back onto the pillow and squirmed before jumping up onto his feet. Dracula, his head resting against his propped fist, growled at the small creature.  
“Well? What is it?” Chupacabra pushed the crystal ball closer to the dark lord, his yellowing teeth exposed in a enormous grin.  
“This, my prince, is a Great Druid's seeing glass! Oh, not just any druid my lord. The highest of the high! The greatest of the great! Oh what a marvellous discovery!” The dwarf began dancing once more, across the table in a strange old jig. Alucard chuckled from his place against the shelving and locked eyes with his father, who was growing more and more irritated by the trickster grooving before him. Eyes flashing dangerously in anger, Dracul snapped, his claws puncturing the dark leather of the arm chair.  
“And just what does it do?” Chupacabra flinched, immediately grovelling before the prince as he spoke.  
“I apologise, my prince. You see, this crystal ball has the power to show you glimpses of the people you will meet. But not just anyone my lord, oh no, this can show you those who you are destined to meet. Those that your fate is eternally bound to.” He giggled again placing his hand against the glass, chanting before the ball lit up with a brilliant light blue light. Alucard frowned from his place against the wall and watched, though his stance was stiff, ready to move quickly if he should need to. Chupacabra smiled at the Prince of Darkness, stepping away from the glowing orb carefully. He held out a mucky hand with a strange smile.  
“Why not see for yourself my lord?” 

Dracula snorted, leaning back into the chair, his head once again resting against his fist in boredom.  
“If I wanted to know my fate, I would look into the Mirror of Fate that I have in this very castle.” Chupacabra scrambled forwards, grabbing at the air.  
“But milord?! This shows you the people! Who they are, what they are, where they are! Would you not like to know about your enemies before you even meet them?” Dracula grumbled to himself before he leant forwards again and held out his palm, before gently pressing it against the strangely cold glass of the orb. The bright light enveloped the room, and his sight.

Blinking, he peered around to only see a dimly lit street. He was stood across the road from a woman. The traffic lights changed from green, to amber, to red and the cars in either lane halted. People around them began crossing, their faces blurred, as they moved to cross. He was dressed strangely, his black, lacy cuffed shirt fastened about half way up his torso, and a long red leather trench coat, much like his battle garments. His boots and leather breeches were still on, though they were not reinforced like his armour. He walked slowly, getting increasingly closer to the woman with every step. Her steps were light and graceful and she held a phone to her ear and a briefcase at her side. She wore a blazer, white blouse and pencil skirt. As they drew closer she clicked her phone and slowly placed it in her pocket before coming face to face with Dracula. He peered down at her and almost gasped. Her brown hair and slim face were unmistakeable. Her brown eyes glittered and she apologised after bumping into his chest before dodging around his imposing figure and disappearing around the corner. The tinkle of her voice echoed as he closed his eyes.

The first thing he felt was a weight on his abdomen and a pounding on his chest. The sound of a deep voice caused his eyes to flutter open, the red irises focusing on the pesky immortal sat on him.  
“Chupacabra get off of him. He will only make things worse for you if he wakes to you perched on top of him.” Chupacabra wailed, smacking his tiny fists onto the prince's chest again with little force.  
“No my prince cannot be dead! Wake up my lord, oh powerful one!” Alucard sighed from his place by Dracula's side.  
“Chupacabra, resuscitation will not bring him back...you forget he is dead already.” Chupacabra growled at Alucard with tiny fists balled.  
“I know that! My prince just might have responded to my...encouragement!” Alucard snorted but was cut off by Dracula snapping his eyes open, grabbing Chupacabra by the scruff of his neck. Chupacabra screeched and hung limply in the dark lord's hand. Dracula snarled at him,  
“The next time I see or feel you so much as touch me, I'll throw you to the Scavens. Do I make myself clear?” Chupacabra nodded rapidly and Dracula released his neck, allowing him to fall to the floor with a thump. The trickster was quick to teleport from the room, the black smog rising as he disappeared.

Alucard shook his head, making his way over to the large lounge chair before spreading himself across it like a basking cat. He fixed his golden gaze on his father, a single white eyebrow raised as he combed the long, shocking locks from his eyes.  
“What did you see? A military general looking for the man who butchered his forces in the Purging Night?” Dracula sighed, rubbing his forehead lightly before massaging his temples with the same amount of force. Frowning, his eyes closed he shook his head.  
“Nothing like that.” Alucard hummed from within the dark leather. He rapped his claws along the wooden back as he thought.  
“Well...a politician seeking to make amends with you?” Dracula scowled at him, his eyes gloomy and dangerous. He scoffed and curled his spine against the plush cushions of the chair.  
“Do you take me for a politician son?” Alucard chuckled, folding his hands beneath his head as he smiled. He turned his head to his father and shrugged.  
“Then enlighten me, father. Just who did you see?” Dracula peered down at the dark stone of the floor, his irises flashing with a mixture of emotions. His voice fell to just above a whisper as he spoke.  
“I saw your mother.”


	2. Nought but an Illusion

**"To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die."- Thomas Campbell**

Dracula watched his first born coil like a cobra against the plush cushions of the seat, stiff and tense, his body rigid. Alucard slowly turned his gaze to peer at the ceiling, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes closed in something akin to exasperation. The vampire lord found himself grinding his teeth as his son looked at him with pity filled golden eyes, his lithe body still tightly strung and tension filled as he battled internally with his own feelings. Alucard pushed himself up into a sitting position and curled his claws into the plush stuffing of the high backed sofa, in an attempt to quell his violent outburst of anger, and to reign in the patience, he had spent a millennia honing.  
“Father...you-you can't have seen her, the real woman you loved. She's been dead well over a thousand years now and not to mention, she was gone after-” Dracula growled, slumping back into the arm chair, his red eyes dangerous as he mulled over the vision he had just witnessed. He knew what he had seen. It may not have been his love, but she was extraordinarily like her, damnably so. The woman's face was a perfect picture of what he remembered, what he had been plagued by for years in his fortress- alone. Meeting Alucard's wet eyes he grumbled lowly before replying.  
“I know what I saw, boy. She's dead. I know that more than any. I saw her ascend to the heavens without me that day. But, Alucard, I know that face. And the face of this woman...it was just like her. It was like looking at an exact replica of Marie.” The words slowly died on his tongue as he peered at the dark, night sky that hung over the city. “I know what I saw...I know...” Alucard sighed and rubbed his face gently, trying to take what his father was saying seriously. 

The delusions his father had been having had grown increasingly common. He didn't know what was true when Dracula spoke anymore. So, of course, he had doubts about the truth of this relic's power. His golden eyes stared at the crystal orb, still perched on top of the dusty silk pillow. The bright blue light had dimmed to a weak glow due to the two powerful figures in the room, but the see through properties of the crystal were diminished, as it was clouded with swirling, blue tinged mist. His father was slumped in the large arm chair, brooding, falling into the twisted spiral of his own depression all over again. Eyes hard, Alucard raised his head to peer into his father's haunted eyes.  
“You speak the truth, do you not, father?” Dracula met his gaze, his face a definition of anguish. Abruptly, he turned away, heaving himself up and onto his feet in a swift, graceful movement before he swept his hand across the table across the room, sending the chalices, books and papers flying into the air to try and spend some pent up anger.  
“I do not need to sit here and be questioned by you. You think I have lost my wits- lost my mind?! I have not, son! What I saw was real!” Alucard's lips tightened into a thin line, his brows furrowed low as he forced himself to be silent. Retaliation, he had found, only fuelled his father's rage. Dracula growled at his silence and whipped around before he stalked across the room and to the door. Alucard stood and disappeared in a cloud of bats before he reappeared in front of his father, blocking the exit out of the room.

Dracula growled, stalking ever closer to his son, until they were toe to toe, their noses almost touching. His fangs clicked against his bottom teeth and his breath fanned out across Alucard's cheeks as he spoke.  
“Out of my way, boy.” The prince's voice was low and dangerous, but Alucard merely blinked, holding steadfast in the face of the power of his maker. He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest, adjusting his stance so his weight was leant more on his right leg.  
“Father you need to calm yourself. You can't have seen her. She ascended back to heaven long ago, after you defeated Satan.”  
“You think me crazy do you not?” Dracula spat out venomously from between gritted teeth, his fangs glinting in the low light. Alucard did not need to reply, but lowered his gaze to his heeled boots. His father laughed, a few short, harsh bursts of air, that echoed off the stone walls, “Then if you think me deranged...” he took three steps backwards, before spreading his legs in a lower, fighting stance, “Put. Me. Down.”. 

Alucard was quick to shift his weight backwards as Dracula launched himself forward with an inhuman burst of speed. The claws of the vampire lord skimmed over the bone of his cheek, the air whipping Alucard's white hair around as the hand withdrew and was sent forwards again in a flurry of punches. Dracula growled in anger as his son sped rgiht in a ray of blue light, effectively dodging the blows aimed for his vitals. Alucard skidded to a stop,before he reached to his left hip and flicked his fingers out in a sign, opening the small pocket dimension he controlled. Quickly, he reached in and withdrew his fabled weapon in a flash of light. Dracula only watched as his son pointed the sword at him, his sword arm extended out, and his hold on the grip tight with anger.  
“Father, please, don't make me do this.” Dracula merely flicked his wrist, the Void Sword materialising from his palm in a burst of cold blue light. The sword glowed, the runes on the blade rippling with pulses of energy as its master swung it out, in a large arc, to his side. A sadistic grin curled his lips upwards, revealing his predatory fangs.  
“Its too late for that now, son.” He spat the word in disgust, meeting Alucard's eyes before gripping the cold blade harder and launching himself forwards. 

The void blade met with the Crissaegrim emitting a resounding clang, as they slid across each other. The metal of the Crissaegrim was unaffected by the freezing power of the Void Sword and Alucard shook slightly against the sheer brute strength of his father. Dracula's blade slid down to the cross guard of the Crissaegrim. He flicked his wrist, forcing the power upwards onto the underside of the sword. Anticipating this move, Alucard drew his blade backwards and pirouetted around his father before taking the grip in two hands and forcefully pushing the weapon forwards, through the air in a rapid succession of brutal strikes. Dracula growled parrying the quick blows with swipes of the Void Sword, from left to right and right to left, which pushed the Crissaegrim's blows aside. He was quick to burst into mist and whirled around the other vampire before reappearing and jumping into the air. The cold creation sliced through the air in a downwards arc, a blur of blue light as it headed for Alucard's exposed back. Before the blade could meet flesh Alucard spun and raised the Crissaegrim, holding it horizontally to meet with the Void Sword in another clang of unnatural metal and energy. The blades scrapped against each other as both vampires pushed forward with unnatural strength. Alucard withdrew backwards slightly lowering his stance a little, and, as he predicted, his father fell for the opportunity to get in a blow and was met with a quick flick of the wrist, sending his sword to the side, and then a swipe across the chest. Dracula hissed in pain, but drew his sword up to defend himself from another cunning blow. The wound on his chest dripped with thick blood but quickly began healing itself over slowly. Dracula flicked the Void Sword upwards in a swooping arc and flew through the air. Again the blow was met, Alucard's arms shaking with the effort of blocking the point of the sword. The blade slid atop the Crissaegrim and sliced into the flesh of Alucard's shoulder.

Both vampires dodged backwards, blood dripping from their wounds. Alucard growled and held his sword by his side.  
“Father! Come to your senses! Stop this!” Dracula growled raising the Void Sword to strike once more, but faltered. His pupils dilated as he drew closer to Alucard. His grip on his sword loosened as the image of his little son appeared before him. Trevor smiled with warm eyes, his toys in hand and held them behind his back. With a sudden flash of light, the sword vanished and Dracula took a few steps back, clenching his pale hands into fists as he turned away from his son. Alucard let out a small sigh of relief and sheathed the Crissaegrim back in his pocket dimension. He then stepped closer to his father, but the right words to say eluded him. Dracula's claws ripped into the flesh of his palms and gloopy dark coloured blood dripped from the small tears in his skin, onto the cobbles beneath them.   
“Father, please, what-” Alucard's voice was sympathetic but he was cut off by a low growl.  
“Don't.” His father held up a clawed, pale palm, the skin of it slowly healing over the wounds, “I don't need your pity.” Alucard was quick to move in an attempt to block his exit, but the Prince of Darkness anticipated the movement, evaporating into a cloud of mist and dodging to the other side of the room. The red and black cloud swirled and reformed into the dark image of the vampire lord, his eyes glowing red. Alucard followed his gaze to the window and moved quickly in a cloud of bats towards the glass pane. He was too late as Dracula had already evaporated into mist and moved through the bats and around him, as he reformed himself in front of the window. Alucard shivered as the cold mist caressed his limbs and swivelled to see his father reform, the window already open wide. He frowned and watched as Dracula turned and launched himself out of the window, his dark wings flapping as he rose over the city. 

The castle loomed in the distance. Dracula had made sure he'd flown as far away as possible. He needed to clear his mind, and the presence of his son amidst the endless tricks of the castle meant that was nigh on impossible to achieve. The city had recovered from the ruin and chaos caused by Satan and his acolytes that fateful evening, and a sense of normality had been achieved. The buildings had been repaired and the dead buried, and the humans beneath him bustled around in metal canisters that moved on four wheels, larger ones on up to twelve. He had learnt the names of these contraptions from Zobek and his lieutenant, also known as his son is disguise, when they had been on a mission to save the world. Apparently they were a much more efficient way to get around than questing for months on end to the other side of the globe. People roamed the streets beneath him, darkness having just fallen, with phones and bags, heading here and there, all seemingly in a hurry to get somewhere or another. His sensitive ears caught snippets of conversations from the roof top he was stood upon. Some bumped into each other, but no one apologised, they only gave each other disgusted looks as they walked away. This new, modern world was strange and so unlike the world he grew up in, killing dark forces, questing for glory, and, to fulfil his destiny and his fate. This world had no belief in the things he fought and did. It was a strange yet blissfully ignorant world. But he supposed that made his life a little easier. No one would suspect a vampire of killing people, it would just be the fault of another murderer, like the thousands already out there in the world.

Dropping down, unnoticed, into a small alleyway, he became aware that his attire in this age was not exactly inconspicuous. Tight leather and armour would probably arouse suspicion amongst the mortals wearing t-shirts and trousers. After watching a few humans walk past, with very strange and vibrant hair colours, he focused, the blood forming his clothes pulling apart and whipping around to form more reserved, and frankly, more covering garments. A dark black shirt covered his chest, fastened up a little more than half way, the lacy cuffs falling over the backs of his hands, clipped in place with small ruby cuff links. The long red coat he donned shifted shape a little, the shoulder guards disappeared and most of the gold embellishments vanished, reappearing as golden buttons down the front. His leather breaches became looser and his metal plated boots only leather, the plates became patterns near the knee. Opening his eyes he sighed and looked down at himself. It would have to do, though it meant that feeding was probably out of the question, cleaning the blood out of his shirt would probably be a little more trouble than it was worth. He walked slowly out of the alley and paused for a moment before striding into the crowds, weaving between people as he began a languid nightly stroll. 

The city was extremely busy. People ran, walked and jogged in every direction, bags in hand. It was a strange site compared to the chaos, and it had a stunning effect on him. Compared to what he knew, the small village markets and set days for every aspect of life. Church on a Sunday, markets for specific items on separate days- there were no routines like those he grew up with anymore. Dracula pondered as he walked down the black tarmac paths, and turned to peer up at a large sign for a shopping district. The enormous TV flashed vibrant colours and phrases scrolled across the screen about the various sales and the shops they were in. A large metal sign was hung a few metres over the revolving doors. 'White Wolf Centre' He rolled his eyes. Of course they still hoped to see the legendary white wolf appear on the hill top to howl at the full moon. Many claimed to have seen his son voicing his protests about Dracula's own actions against the children of God. Alucard also claimed to have done it once, when they had fought and Dracula had been, or they had thought he had been, vanquished. Unluckily for them, he was very much alive, but bided his time before his return to the world of men. The siege they had sent against him had been very fun to tear apart, but he quelled his blood lust and continued walking, past the strange rotating doors. At least when he had been a man, doors only opened and closed- why did they need to rotate?

The hustle and bustle only grew more intense as he reached the edge of the Downtown district of Castlevania City. The office blocks grew taller and taller as he strolled along. More and more men and women dressed in shirts, blouses, trousers and skirts walked along side him and passed him in the street. They paid him little attention, most looking as though they had not slept for a few days, dragging their feet as they plodded on, homeward bound. Dracula's eyes flickered from left to right, discreetly, as he watched the people pass him, wary about each and everyone of them. Humans could not be trusted, but, in hindsight, nor could he. For all they knew, he could be another axe-murderer prowling the streets for fresh meat. No one knew anyone, and the suspicious nature that everyone carried seemed to have not changed. Even when he was a man, on the road to complete a journey for glory and honour, no one had trusted anyone they met on the long roads, though few travelled the dark paths, the small amount of, non-bloodthirsty creatures he met along the way did not trust him, just as he did not trust them. He was glad that at least a few things had remained the same in the long period he had been asleep. Dracula moved to the left of the large crowds and turned the corner again, heading left towards a large intersection. Cars ambled along behind each other as the traffic lights turned from red, to amber, and finally to green, before whizzing across the open road and veering left or right, or zooming straight ahead. When the lights changed again the cars rolled to a halt once more. People then strode across the tarmac, their shoes, clicking and thumping monotonously as they moved as a herd across the road. 

Dracula watched for a moment as the mortals crossed, some jogging, others walking, before he made a move, pushing himself off of the wall to join the crowd that had gathered again, waiting to cross the road. A few of the people surrounding him gave him a strange look. A woman eyed him from the corner of her eyes, fighting off a blush as she tapped at her phone, also waiting for the lights to change to red. He found himself smirking a little and his gaze slipped to the side, eyeing the young girl as she typed a message on her screen. Her bright blue eyes crawled slowly away from her typing and she peeked at him again, not realising she'd been discovered. Her eyes met his own red ones and her cheeks lit up with a bright pink blush as she gapped slightly. His smirk only widened as she nervously tucked her hair behind her ear and removed it, only to repeat the habit again, glancing from left to right, unsure where to aim her gaze. Dracula found himself chuckling despite himself and he quickly dodged through the people around him, twisting left and right quicker than the human eye could comprehend. 

Eventually, the girl's eyes dragged back to the spot where he once was and she was shocked to not see him surrounded by the men and women on their phones. The girl turned her head rapidly, trying to find a glimpse of him again. She jumped, her elbows knocking into his chest as he laid a cool hand on her shoulder. Her skin was warm beneath his palm and a sudden urge to rip into the flesh overwhelmed him for a moment, until he recollected himself. She turned her head, peering over her shoulder, and gave out a meek squeak as she came face to face with the handsome man she had been eyeing up through the crowd. Her heels clicked as she turned to face him, once again tucking hair behind her ear and removing it, before repeating the action. Her other hand fiddled with the strap of her bag on her shoulder. A grin curled his lips upwards as her eyes flickered and roamed over the bulges of his shirt over his chest and abdomen. His eyes dimmed, trying to take on a more steely tone, as he addressed the shy girl.  
“I haven't been flattered with a lady's gaze in quite some time.” A chuckle rumbled deep in his chest and the poor girl shuffled slightly on the balls of her feet, her cheeks pink with a bright and prominent blush.   
“Well ah- I didn't- I wasn't...” She quickly became even more flustered and Dracula smiled at her, his teeth a bright white, slicing through the air.  
“I'm not offended, merely flattered, calm yourself.” She cocked her head to the side, but didn't question him, bowing her head low before backing away slightly.  
“Well, I'm sorry sir, and well, ah, um- I'll just be going now!” A cool hand on her waist made her pause before she whirled around and shoved at him, red in the face, and made a quick escape through the crowd of closely packed bodies. He chuckled. The shy types always managed to get away from him, even as a young man. At least his age had not diminished his looks. Well, its not like he could age or wither- he was a vampire after all.

The lights quickly changed to red and he found himself moving across the street with the herd of people. His dark, ink coloured hair clung to his jaw as the breeze blew it askew. Dracula raked a hand through his hair as he walked along side the mass of humans, his coat billowing behind him as he strode forwards. A sudden wave of uncertainty took over him as he slowed his pace, walking with small steps, forwards. The people around him moved too fast for him to register faces and Dracula's eyebrows furrowed as he kept moving with a warier edge. As he reached the middle of the road he managed to pull his line of sight up from his black leather boots and locked his heavy gaze upon the woman he had dreaded to face, smack in front of him. Her dark brown, almost black hair, was looped backwards at the nape of her neck and twisted into a practical braid, a gold metal band held it in place more than half way down her back. A phone was held to her ear and the blouse, skirt, tights, blazer and small heeled shoes made it more than obvious he was some sort of office worker. As she clicked the button on her phone, her deep hazel, almost golden eyes, looked up at him for a moment before turning her attention to her bag which was clutched in her hand, the other holding a large portfolio. Dracula found himself utterly mesmerised, and unable to stop gawking at the woman, the memory, walking straight towards him. She didn't see him until her forehead met his chest.

She bounced off the solid muscle a little and pinched her eyes shut, adjusting her bags to rub at the small red mark where the skin had made contact with a golden button of his jacket. The button, embellished with a small dragon head, had left a nice mark, right in the middle of her forehead. She huffed, rubbing at the spot, and it was then that Dracula found his voice.  
“Forgive me, I was not looking where I was going.” Brows still furrowed she looked up at him, cracking a small, gentle smile.  
“Don't worry. It's fine. I seem to be a little bit of an airhead today anyway.” She chuckled at him before quickly dodging around his imposing figure, so much taller than her own. “Well, I'll be on my way. Sorry again.” And with that, she was gone, across the road and striding down the paths with the grace of a swan. His mouth was dry. He did not think that what he had seen could possibly have been true, but as he watched her braided hair gently sway behind her as she moved further and further away from him, he found a strange emptiness took over his heart.

It was cold and strange. The icy layers he had built many years ago seemed to have thawed in a second, and it left a gaping hole that he had plugged upon his vow of vengeance. A hole that demanded his love. The hole that sometimes drove him to the brink of madness, and made him contemplate his own demise. It was the desperation to be with his love, his true love, in the heavens...But now, he fund it longing for something else. It was pulling him towards that woman. And for the moment, he didn't know why. But he was surely going to find out. And so, as the cars around him honked their horns, he turned on his heel, shooting them all snarls, and resolved to follow her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again. I have inspiration for this due to playing too much of the game. Oh well. I hope that at least makes it enjoyable to read! Point out any errors you may find and I will rectify them!  
> Comments, kudos are all greatly appreciated! Your opinions, views and predictions are something I love to respond to with a smile!  
> Thanks for reading!


	3. The Brotherhood of Light

The Brotherhood of Light

Dracul was remarkably amazed by how quickly the woman could move. It had been only a number of seconds, and she was quickly blending with the crowds, and more or less, out of sight. So, he deigned to follow her smell. The scent of lavender, incense and old paper cajoled him to follow her. A strange reminder of his love long past. Marie would tuck lavender into the wardrobe and linen closets, and the scent of it wafted where ever she roamed. He ducked into an alley, leaning against the wall as she came to a halt in front of a vendor's stall. The old woman stood behind the counter smiled at her fondly, asking her about her day. It seemed the girl came often, and was a regular customer. Dracula watched, peering around the brick of the wall, as the old lady fussed over her forehead, offering her a cream to take down the swelling. The woman politely declined but asked for a bunch of Sunflowers and Irises. The requested bunch was made up, and she took them, giving the elder a paper bill before walking away, the flowers clutched close to her chest. The fragrance of the flowers mixed with her underlying smell and The Dragon cursed, curling his nose at the overly floral scent as he continued behind her.

Her next stop was to pick up some supplies from a large commercial shop. Following her in, he was overwhelmed by the intensity of the artificial bright white light that illuminated the store. Squinting, he watched her flit through the aisles, basket in hand, as she chose fruit and vegetables from the shelves and a few other products, none of which he actually knew, before making her way to the checkout, her purse in hand. Just as suddenly as she had moved, she stopped and shivered. A ripple of panic ran through him as he figured out the best way to blend into the crowd. Turning into a horde or rats or a writhing cloud of blood to possess someone was not really advisable in such an open, public place- panic was the last thing he needed to start. So he opted for the easier option. Moving closer to a woman with her small child, he tapped the mother's shoulder to get her attention.

The woman was young, but well old enough, at least when he was a man, to have birthed a few children. He smiled, his teeth gleaming as she looked into his shinning eyes. That was her mistake. In a matter of moments her face went slack as she fell under his will. Red eyes gleaming, he laughed pulling her closer to him by the waist. She obliged and quickly, he willed her to laugh too.  
"I am your husband, this is our son. What I just told you was funny, laugh." And, like a robot, she began to laugh. The sound was shrill to his ears, but he grinned chuckling. Leaning forward, he looked into the pram she had with her. The child was blissfully sleeping, his chubby little hands fisted into the blanket wrapped around him. A small spark of feeling reverberated through him. This was something he and Trevor had never shared, and never would. The boy was far too old now, bordering on nearly one thousand. Not exactly the perfect age to be coddling him at. And even if he did take to trying, the boy would be quick to shove at him or hiss and storm out, much like a teenager now he thought about it. He snorted at the thought.

Dracula bowed his head as the woman he had been following appeared at the top of the isle, her eyes scanning the crowds with a frown. She seemed to feel something, though she would have never have guessed the Prince of Darkness was following her around. She paced the length of the isle and Dracul kept his head down, the girl at his waist muttering to him about her day as he picked up items off the shelf and eyed them. Bright, vibrant colours assaulted his vision and he found his nose crinkling in distaste as the products screamed artificial ingredients. His female pursuer was quick to return to her own devices with a final shiver running down her spine, and Dracula found himself sighing lightly, a human gesture, as she retreated from her search. The girl he had his arm wrapped around giggled and leant closer into him, and an old couple cooed from the end of the isle, watching them snuggle and laugh. He groaned internally. It seemed he'd have to pull this show off for a little longer, as not to arouse suspicion.

He managed to grab what the woman required for her shopping. Most of it was bottle formula and some soft baby foods, but it was tedious and painful on the eyes none the less. Brightly coloured brands stuck out of plastic bags as he loaded her pram up, still laughing and smiling like a fool. It didn't take him long to wave his hand in front of her face and release the trance once they were comfortably out of the range of prying eyes. The young mother's face fell slack once more and he whispered a few words before striding away and into an alley. As though suddenly awakened, the girl snapped her head up and groaned, holding her head. Dracula watched as she looked around, slightly startled before checking her pram and baby. Content nothing was harmed, if not somewhat confused, she pushed the buggy down the road and left, cooing at her baby as she went. He was just in time to watch the brunette he had been following step out of the large superstore, a single plastic bag in hand.

The girl was quick to walk away from the shop, her movements swift like a fox as she weaved in and out of people like the cunning creature would do the undergrowth. The spring in her step drove her further and quicker than most, and Dracula had to rely on his nose more often than not as she eluded him through the hoards of people. Her sweet, cozy scent was easy enough to pin point amongst the grime and overpowering wafts of grease and sickly sweet perfumes. His nose led him right up to her back at one point, his eyes failing to register her as he approached her back. She had tensed and peered over her shoulder, but he had reacted faster, moving like a shadow, sprinting through the crowd before she could even fully turn her eyes to look. Dracul had cursed her alluring scent at that point, and the memories it had brought back, rekindling a strange warmth he reserved for his long lost love, deep within the vault of his heart. His curiosity was not quelled when she finally came to a halt outside an rather large apartment block, on the outskirts of the Downtown area of the city, close to the Arts District.

The girl swiped a card in the magnetic lock and typed in a pass code before the door beeped, and she pulled it open with a small huff, stepping inside. Dracula watched with gleaming red irises as she disappeared from his view. Closing his eyes, he could still pick up her lingering scent, intoxicating and haunting at the same time. Carefully, he focused his senses, looking up to the floors of the block, waiting for a light to turn itself on. Sure enough, on the sixth floor, a large window lit up with yellow light. He could clearly hear her sigh and throw her bags down before she appeared in the glass pane, pulling the thick, gold embroidered curtains closed. After that his inhuman senses were somewhat impaired, though he could still clearly hear the giggles and gasps coming from the second floor. Other than that, he could hear little of the activity going on in her home.

Dracula strode out of the small alley he had situated himself in, just across the street from the building the woman had strode into. His boots, shorter and more suitable for the time, clicked as he walked out and into the rode before crossing. A lone car passed every now and then, but this side of the city was relatively deserted at this time in the night. Most workers had gotten home to their families, or were at work for the night shifts. A dark eyebrow rose as he looked up at the building. The magnetically locked doors were a no entry, so he paced around the corner, looking for a suitable fire escape to climb up. Sure enough, there was a wrought iron ladder and stairs system,that lead up and onto the roof of the building, painted black and peeling from years of misuse and lack of tending. Dracula found himself grinning as he strode over to the ladder. It was a small task to tug it down from it clipped position on the rusty balcony. The metal fell with a 'slick', orange rust on orange rust as it fell and met the pavement with a clang. Dracul was quick to ascend the ladder and pull himself up onto the small balcony with little effort. Inquisitively, he peered upwards, leaning over the balcony railing to get a look upwards. Nobody had heard him, or if they had, they hadn't taken the time to look out of their window. If he were human, he would have let out a sigh of relief. Moving onwards, he quickly pulled himself up the rungs of the ladders and reached the balcony just below the girl's window.

Silently, he moved against the side of the building and peered around the window frames. Any sort of crack could be used to get into the apartment. He found none. Frustrated, Dracula stepped back and looked for another way in. An air conditioning unit hummed quietly in the wall, the fan beating as it sucked cool night air into the room. A grin crept onto his lips as he spread his arms wide, as though welcoming an embrace. The sound of laughter from inside the woman's apartment caught him off guard.  
"And so I told her she could go find someone else to do her paper work, maybe someone who actually gave a fuck." He heard her voice ring as clear as a bell.  
"Language. So what then? Has she been harassing you for weeks? My poor baby." Another burst of laughter lit a fire of rage in his belly. Dracul focused his hearing on the conversation, a strange sensation churning deep in his stomach. Something he was not accustomed to, and did not like.

"Marie. No one is going to take you away from me. Your the only girl for me I promise." The words were sickly sweet and brought bile up and into his throat. Dracula found his claws curling into the white paint of the window sill. Marie. Her name. He felt sick. Her laughter tinkled in the air.  
"Oh shut it you. Eat your dinner. If it goes cold I wont be making you any more. You'll go to work hungry."  
She chuckled once more and the man with her joined in, his voice was hardened, but reminded Dracula of his own voice, and that only grated on his nerves more so.  
"I suppose I better eat this and then head off to the vaults. They've been having a lot of trouble down there recently." She gave out a sigh through her nose and Dracula perked his ears. The Vaults were not a place he knew of.  
"Promise me you'll be careful? I may just get to read papers all day, but I'm not sheltered enough to know that its dangerous down there. The monsters down there are not child's play." The man gave out a sigh and drew her close, clothing rustling as she was grappled closer to him.  
"I promise okay love? Don't go worrying yourself. I promised Victor I wouldn't go dying on him, but look at what he went and got himself into. Dead in the street. That monster didn't even look at him twice before he took off." His voice was dark, dangerous and Dracula's attention was captured despite his disgust and anger. So the child knew Victor. This definitely deserved a little more investigation. Marie said no more about the matter and Dracul deigned himself to be quiet. So he sat on the balcony with his anger, seething as a strange feeling coiled around him and churned deep within his heart.

The boy she was with left not half an hour later, but the young man's motives and investments were not worth wasting his evening over just yet. As before, Dracula spread his arms wide, whipping himself into a cloud of red streaked black mist. His mist form floated effortlessly through the air conditioning fan and flew into the room, sucked unceremoniously into the small sitting area like an insect would be. He could hear Marie humming in the kitchen and the clatter of dishes as she washed the plates used at dinner. Reforming himself Dracula quickly moved into the shadowy closet she had. The shelves were stacked with books and various films. Stacks of albums swayed as his coat brushed the towers. Focusing, his body was quick to shift and morph. The towers of DVDs and CDs got larger as he shrunk down into a rat. When his bones finally finished cracking into place, Dracula gave his spine a stretch, his small clawed feet pushed forward and his pink coloured tail curling close to his torso. Quickly and quietly, he then scuttled out of the small cupboard and into the open living area.

Dracul had last used this ridiculous rat form when he'd been creeping around the heavily armoured, if not somewhat stupid, trigger happy guards the acolytes used to disintegrate all those who tried to interfere with their plans. He knew first hand how much those plasma guns hurt. Having the side of your torso blown off with one and having to heal the bones, organs and flesh was a painful process. One he didn't want to go through again. Then again, having stake after stake thrust into your body was just as bad, and well, that had failed to kill him all those years ago. His wet nose twitched as he scampered across the wooden flooring, and peered around the corner of the wall to look upon his lost love's beauty. Again, he was mystified. Her hair was loose, falling in loose chestnut waves to her waist. She'd shed her blouse and skirt and had a loose, white silk night gown on instead. The material fell in ripples over her curves and it was hard to deny her likeness to his long past wife. A thin gold chain clinked around her throat as she placed another dish onto the rack to dry. Looking closer, a small rose hung on the end of it, the petals made up of deep blue sapphires with gold inlaying holding them in place. As she hummed, Marie's dark eyes twinkled with warmth and Dracula found himself remembering the cold evenings they would spend together in front of the hearth, when the snow was too deep and the blizzards too cold for Gabriel to go off into the wilderness. Her eyes and her singing were always the things to chase away his dark moods.

Dracul crawled closer to her, his furry belly close to the tiles as he crept along. Her singing paused for a moment and she looked around, her thin eyebrows furrowed as she shivered. Every time he came close to her, she shivered almost as though she could sense his presence. It was something he did not know how to feel about. Was it because of his power or because of his simple presence in the home of someone so pure? He could not be sure, but it didn't stop him from creeping ever closer, watching with beady red eyes as she returned to her task. It didn't take her long to finish the dishes. Marie was quick to wipe her hands on a towel before flicking the light off and moving into the living area, before continuing into a study room of sorts. He scampered through the door behind her, careful to avoid brushing up against the bare skin of her legs. She shut the door too, just behind his tail and then made her way over to a large, dark wood desk against the window in the room. Papers rustled as she flipped through the pages and piles on top of the desk. Humming still, she picked up her portfolio case. The black material bag was something he remembered her carrying when he bumped into her on the crossing. Once unzipped, she carefully pulled out a number of large scrolls, all bound with dirtied ribbons, the parchment brown and ripped in places. They were definitely old writings. Yet, he found himself intrigued, and Dracula moved closer to her chair, trying to get a look at the wax on the bound scrolls, holding them closed.

Many of them were simply bound with coloured ribbons, tied neatly in bows around the brown rolled papers. Marie pulled a number of them out of the bag, and Dracula squinted his small rat eyes to catch a glimpse of a very familiar seal. The curled ends of the cross, intricate and sleek, were all too well known to him. Those scrolls belonged to the Brotherhood of Light. He felt his already cold blood run colder as the news settled over him. A permanent frost settled itself over him. Not again. The brotherhood had already claimed Marie from him once. His human son had been turned against him, brainwashed and turned into a stone cold killer. They had betrayed him and ripped everything he held dear, forcefully from his life. The angelic glow of Marie's spirit confronting him on his journey flashed before his eyes. _"Oh god no. Please no."_ He'd been betrayed at every corner. He would not allow for them to take her from him again. Her involvement with the Brotherhood would end her in time, and it was not something he could live with. She would not be ripped away from him again. Not this time.

Gazing upon her once more, the rat form he had taken moved, and turned, heading back to the door. His tiny claws scratched against the laminate flooring. Stealthily, he squeezed through the small gap between the door and the frame, and made haste towards the large wooden door of the apartment. His small rodent ears twitched, spinning on his head as he listened. She was still rustling her papers. Focusing his energy, he shifted himself back into his normal form, his eyes glittering like rubies as his blood reshaped itself, folding back over and over, weaving in and out until he was in his normal shape once more. Dracula did not make a sound as he fell apart into smoke, moving under the door and into the corridor. He reformed himself and scowled, clenching his fists as memories assaulted his mind.

_A roaring fire crackled in the hearth as the wind howled outside. It wasn't winter, nor particularly cold, but Marie was more susceptible to chills and drafts than himself. He'd spent many winters outside in the training grounds and scouring mountain tops for Manticore and Wyverns. The two had been wed that morning, spending the afternoon and most of the evening laughing, dancing and feasting until Marie's father could barely stand. A smile curled his lips upwards as he looked down at Marie. She was snuggled against his side, drinking in his warmth and the solidarity Gabriel provided. The blue roses she adored so much had been weaved into her hair, the fragrance was sweet and subtle. Leaning down, Gabriel pressed a kiss to her forehead. She hummed contently but opened her eyes, the reflection of the flames dancing across them. He smiled down at her softly._

_"It is our wedding night Gabriel yet you press innocent kisses to my forehead." Her lips curled into a devilish grin and Gabriel found it hard not to smash his lips to hers right then and there. He chuckled instead, leaning backwards slightly so she could not pull him down for a kiss._  
"And here I thought you enjoyed my attention Marie, it seems I was wrong." She gently ran her hand up, across the expanse of his thick muscled chest, curling her fingers into the material of the thin cotton shirt he usually wore under his armour. Her eyes were positively smouldering as she looked up at him once more.  
"Oh I like your attention Gabriel." She grinned draping herself across his lap, "But I would prefer those kisses to be on my lips." Gabriel let out a low growl, pulling her face up before their lips met in a passionate embrace. Tenderly, Gabriel caressed Marie's face, cupping her cheeks before running the palms down and over her waist. He quickly tugged her closer, hooking an arm through her legs and the other around her back before he effortlessly carried her over to the bed. Dropping her down, petals scattering from her locks, he was quick to cover her with the weight of his body. 

A low growl ran through him as he thought of what he had lost, and what he could now loose once more. He would not have his love taken from him again. Opening his blood red eyes, he opened his palm and summoned his void powers. Cold mist curled from the freezing palm of his hand, and he watched as the dark blue petals of a rose formed, growing as a lighter coloured ice stem pushed the flower up. The dark ice glittered like a jewel as his pale fingers gripped the icy stem. Tenderly, he knelt down and placed the flower down outside of her door. The void created ice would not melt. It was only shattered in powerful running water and by very much alive and moving enemies. Shards of glass like ice were sprinkled around the winter rose and he let a small smile creep onto his face. Dracula knocked three times on the door before he walked around the corner, and waited.

Sure enough, Marie opened the door, her nightwear covered by a long black dressing gown. She peered from side to side, confused, before she looked down. Her eyes widened as she picked the rose up off of the ground. Two fingers rotated the winter flower around between the icy thorns. She marvelled at the rose for a moment before she clutched it close to her breast, smiling gently as she went back inside and closed the door behind her.

Dracul rounded the corner, descending the stairs two at a time as he continued down to the bottom floor. The magnetically locked door opened with the simple press of a button and the vampire moved out into he cool night air, a strange swell in his heart thundering through him. Peering up at the sky, he almost felt like sighing. The moon was full and round, the stars twinkling against a canvas of dark, midnight blue. The night was in full swing, and in no more than a few hours, dawn would start to creep across the horizon. Peering back at the sixth floor, he watched the lights of the apartment click off for the night. Turning back to the street, he memorised the road and area, committing it to memory so he could navigate back to the apartment building. Before he headed home he needed to feed, but he found the hunger somewhat repressed as his body thrummed with excitement and a bursting feeling of affection. It was something he had not felt in centuries. Turning on his heels, he stepped into an alley before summoning his darkened angelic wings. Beating them three times he was high in the air, soaring over the city.

Dracula's cold heart seemed to beat inside his chest once more as a tender smile softened his features, and turned his lips upwards in a genial smile as the wind ruffled his hair and billowed his clothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took such a long time to be posted! I hope the emotional stuff made up for it? Maybe?  
> Comments, bookmarks etc are all greatly appreciated!  
> Thank you for reading!


	4. An Immortal Truth

The night air was cool. Though he couldn't feel much of anything anymore, Dracula knew the wind was cold and the night frosty. People huddled in scarves were indication enough. A strange churning feeling made his stomach do flip-flops inside him. It was unlike any of the wrenching pain he felt once the hunger set in, but rather unpleasant all the same. Thinking about Marie only seemed to worsen the feeling churning and bubbling deep within him. Her gentle smile and the soft curve of her features made his heart flutter, though it didn't beat, and his being thrum. He hissed at his own stupidity, clenching his fists tight by his sides as he propelled himself ever faster over the rooftops. The love he'd felt for her had been cast aside long ago, with the betrayal he'd had at the hands of the Brotherhood of Light, those who raised him for a purpose in the world. And, those who chose to abandon him after he'd killed all of the dark creatures of the world, and had left him to be corrupted with demonic power and vampire blood. His inner self screamed at him to relinquish all thoughts of her, of the woman, that he found, despite everything, he still loved. Even after centuries apart, a brief meeting before he destroyed Satan once and for all, he still held her dear. Marie was the only one he loved, and she truly held his heart in the palms of her hand.

Gabriel, as he was once, had tried to forget her, to grow some sort of hatred towards her for leaving him alone, and dying. But he still found himself dreaming of her every night, passionately embraced, her whispering his name. Other times it was he who killed her, and sometimes they had picnics by the lake. She invaded his every thought at first. Yet, as he grew bitter, and turned into the monster that vowed vengeance upon the world, he'd found her fading slightly, covered by a waterfall of blood and death which consumed his conscious. Her face had been lost within those centuries, as he gorged himself and slaughtered God's children for sport. Still, he held her close, and now, as he soared over the dark city, that was once his entire palace, he felt a distant pull, calling for him to return to her and wrap her in the darkness of the night. Dracula wanted her. He needed her for himself, so he could steal away her daylight and show her mysteries she'd never encounter without him. The vampire lord wanted to love her. Shower her with gifts, and, most of all, for her to love him in return.   
The night sky flew by him as he powered forwards, looking for anywhere he could quickly grab a mortal to quench his thirst. The blood lust was a constant churning, and as the hunger ripped through him, the feelings he had been consumed with evaporated, as though they had never been there in the first place. His fangs snapped against his bottom teeth, wanting nothing more than a unmarked neck to slice into. His inner-self gurgled and chuckled to himself, coiling deep within, hissing happily as the true predator rose to the surface, hungry and annoyed. He remembered all too well how it had snatched Trevor from him and forced him to kill it, slashing at it with his Void Sword, ripping his wings out of its back before prying the armour open and hacking at the flesh of the appendage like neck attached to a grotesque version of his own head, hair waving like tentacles. 'I am the blood that flows through your veins. I am the dark shadow that chills the hearts of men. I am the fury! Your hate - and your vengeance! I am! Your destiny!' Growling, Dracula plummeted head first, down through the smog surrounding the city towards the tarmac ground.

Quickly, the vampire lord spread his wings out, unfurling them from his back. The black appendages shadowed his form, the black feathers stirring wildly in the strong wind, rushing past his face. Had he needed to breathe, he would have struggled at this moment. The air gushed past his face and escaped his lips. The ground came to meet him with a thud, and Dracula absorbed the impact, landing on both feet in a crouch, his palm pressed into the ground to hold him steady. Easing himself back up onto his feet, Dracula rolled his shoulders, the black feathered angel wings disappearing, as though they were never there in the first place. A whiff of a metallic scent caught his attention. Eyes glimmering a bright crimson, Dracula sniffed the air again. The scent, once again drifted towards him, setting his nerves on fire, the searing pulsing of the eternal hunger rippling through his body. They were close, and apparently bleeding, the metallic scent was strong and uncontaminated, not contained inside a human body, but dripping out of it. 

Dracula strode after the scent, calm and stony faced, without an emotion as he moved after, and tracked his prey. Rounding another corner he found himself striding behind a brunette, dressed plainly and seemingly on her way home from somewhere. She ducked her head lower as she walked, her headphones over her ears, the wires flapping wildly as her pace increased. The Dragon found himself grinning slightly at the easy target. If anything, humans had become less apt at being able to defend themselves. 

The girl didn't notice his presence until he was directly behind her, his cold breath fanning over her shoulder. She squeaked, flipping around, her headphones slipping off her ears and down around her neck. His vacant look did little to help her unease and she coughed slightly, backing away.  
“Can I-I help you sir?” She questioned, her voice wavering. Dracula rolled his eyes up to meet hers, struggling to concentrate amongst the scent of blood. She wasn't injured, or didn't appear to be, but he could guess why her scent had drawn him in. He smiled pleasantly, before fangs glinted in the dim moon light. She froze up, gasping for breath as his eyes shimmered ruby red.  
“Oh I think there is.” Like a cat, he leapt at her, grappling his hand around her neck before tugging the girl into an alley at lightning speed. She writhed in his grip and like a floundering fish out of water. It was futile. The vampire lord snarled leaning closer as he pinned her against the wall, cracking her head against the bricks from the force of the impact. His other hand came up to the young girl's face, forcing her head to the side. Kicking and screaming, the girl tried to wriggle away. Rolling his eyes, Dracula smothered her mouth with his hand pinning her head to the side. 

Warm tears rolled over his cold hands. Dracula peered at the girl's face. Her cheeks and eyes were puffy from crying and the tears rolled over her eyelids and down his fingers, covering his hand and wrist in salty water. Shaking violently, she finally held still, giving up the fight. Somewhat surprised, Dracula took another look into her doe like eyes, innocent and glossy. The blue orbs looked back at him, fear and anger flowing through them. He saw his own reflection, pale and dangerous. Growling once more, he tore away his gaze and felt anger surge through him. Leaning back slightly, he opened his mouth wide before striking at the girl's exposed throat. A scream rumbled under his palm as his fangs tore messily through her peach coloured skin, into the muscle and the thumping artery. Hot blood gushed into his mouth and he lapped greedily at the wound, his saliva encouraging blood to flow. Underneath his weight, the girl soon stopped making a noise as he slowly but surely, bled her out.

What Dracula had never expected, was to be lashed at by a silver whip. He barely had a moment to register the crack of it unwinding before he was forced to drop the girl, half dead, and evaporate into mist. The whip flew through his gaseous body, leaving no wound nor trace. Reforming he blinked, shrugging off the blood induced haze as he took in the sight of his attacker. A young man was stood there, snapping his whip back at his side with a precise flick of the wrist. It was no Combat Cross, but the thinly wound silver strands would do a good deal of damage to any sort of monster. All except Dracula of course. Werewolves perhaps, and other lowly vampires, but, Dracula was no lowly minion. The youngster was well built and broad, and a silver cross hanging around his neck told Dracula all he needed to know. The warrior's dark green eyes glared at him with contempt, and the breeze ruffled his inky hair which was brushing the bottom of his jaw. Despite him sporting a typical shirt and pair of trousers, many elements of the outfit had been swapped out. A thick pair of boots covered his feet and were plated with metal, curling to cover his knees, and two large silver coloured hip guards swung lightly over his hips. A thick black vest was pulled over his torso, most likely bullet proof, and the holster of his whip swung, unbuttoned down his leg. His looks belonged to no one he recognised, but his scent was unmistakable. 

The man from Marie's apartment scowled at him, shaking with anger as he watched blood drip down Dracula's chin and down onto his chest. Dracula, despite his best attempts, found a cynical grin curling his lips upwards at the sight. A small voice began screaming in the distant corner of his mind. 'Kill him and she can be all yours. All yours and only yours.' And, strangely, he found himself wanting to accept it. The Brotherhood member peered over to the girl he had dropped unceremoniously onto the concrete. Subtly, or stupidly, he placed himself between Dracula and the bitten girl. A grin plastered itself across Dracula's face.

“What do you want, boy? A quick death?” He growled the last part, if only to get a rise out of the little warrior of God. It worked.  
“I wanted to corner you and ask you questions. This was the best opportunity you sick fuck.” The boy uncurled his whip again, snapping it threateningly at his side, “Why're you back? You've not been active for years after you destroyed the acolytes. Why now?” Dracula snarled at him, fists clenched as he straightened out his back.  
“And what makes you think, warrior, that I'll tell you that? My affairs are my own business.” The whip cracked by his ear, and a second later it recoiled at its master's side. The vampire lord did nothing, not even blink, as it struck the wall next to his head. He chuckled, low and dangerously.  
“A nice show, but that's not the Vampire Killer. You want to destroy me? Think about investing in one. Now, I suggest you leave.” Another snap of the silver whip told him that this boy was not leaving. Flashing fang he strode towards the man, eyes gleaming red, bright and menacing. The whip flashed out towards his face, and with a scowl he watched it come closer before he snapped out his hand, curling his fingers tight around the biting metal. 

The boy's face was a picture. His mouth gapped for a moment before his stony faced facade was back in place. He was quick to pull a vial out of his belt and smirked cockily before throwing it at Dracula's feet. The blue round glass exploded with a crack against the concrete. A spray of hot holy water erupted out of the weapon. The water hit his skin and merely slid down his face, neck and torso. Wiping at his eyes with a bark of laughter, Dracula coiled the silver whip around his fist tighter, tugging the boy closer to him across the alley.  
“Silver, holy water, crosses, incantations, stakes, the list goes on fool. Nothing can kill me. Many have tried, even my own kin, and all have failed.” He pulled the man closer, dragging him along the floor with the silver whip, “What makes you think you stand a chance?” They were almost nose to nose as Dracula snorted. Easily, he heaved the whip to the side, the boy still holding the handle as though his life depended on it. With a flick of his wrist he sent him spiralling into the wall at an incredible speed. 

A loud bang sounded as the Brotherhood member slammed into the bricks of the building, his head smacking against the wall. He crumpled into a pile at the bottom, groaning and struggling to get to his feet, the bullet proof vest having taken the majority of the blow for him. The silver whip was still wrapped tightly around Dracula's fist, the sharp edged metal had sliced into his palms and the cuts oozed thick dark coloured blood. Sneering, he tossed the weapon aside, watching as the wounds on his palm quickly healed over before advancing towards the younger male. The warrior was still heaving himself upright, swinging form side to side from the blow to his head. Dracul laughed as he kicked him aside, his blow from his boot cracking the man's ribs through the thick plating of the vest. He screamed out in agony, desperately clutching at his side as he hit the wall again. Paying no attention to the pain the boy was in, Dracula leant down, snatching the peachy neck of the man in his palm. He closed his fingers tightly around the expanse of it, increasing the pressure against the trachea. 

“Tell me your name boy.” He got a mere wheeze in reply and a glare from one grass coloured eye, the other closed as blood poured from a wound to his forehead. With a growl, he harshly turned the boy's jaw, forcing him to look into his glowing eyes. “Tell me before I rip out your spleen and feed it to you!” Snarling and writhing in the iron grip of the vampire lord, the little warrior finally caved.  
“My name is Alaister.” A squeeze to his neck indicated Dracula wanted a last name, “Alaister Linwood.” Alaister huffed and wheezed again as Dracula increased the pressure around his neck. For a moment, the vampire lord heard the small voice whisper to him again in the back of his mind, 'Just kill him, then she can be all ours, all ours, all ours. No one else's, just ours.', and he found himself replying to it- contemplating the idea of just taking her, stealing her away from the world and turning her to be with him forever. The short breaths of Alaister drew his attention back to reality. The warrior continued to claw at his hand, weakly, in an attempt to escape still. So, he found himself with a dilemma.

Killing Marie's interest would only arouse suspicion, especially if the Brotherhood got wind of it. They'd send men after him, and thus a blood bath would ensue. Alaister smirked at him, his face a picture of Trevor's all those years ago.  
“Kill me monster. Kill me and be done with it. But know they'll be after you as soon as they hear of it. And this time, they wont stop until you're dead and buried, burnt and staked-”   
“Shut your mouth fool.” Dracula rumbled, applying a little more pressure to keep him quiet. “I might not be able to kill you, but who's to say I wont do something else?” A wicked smile curled his lips upwards, fangs glittering in the pale moonlight, his dark hair swooping low over his shoulders. “I could easily turn you. I could use you for my own bidding. Perhaps a grotesque pair of wings would help sort you out, horns and fangs too.” Dracula's pale hand meandered upwards, his black claws stopping to prick at places as he talked. Alaister cringed, and writhed once more.  
“I would rather be torn to shreds than face an eternity at your bidding monster!” He spat, pulling at the vampire prince's grip around his throat desperately. Dracula sneered as Alaister spat at him, the saliva just missing his face as he leant his head to the side. Scarily calm, Dracula pinned his neck against the wall once more, turning Alasiter's face to look at him again.

Dracula's eye glowed ruby red and he made sure that Alasiter was looking directly at him. It didn't take long for the boy to fall under his spell. Slowly, he lowered him to the ground.  
“You haven't seen me. You don't even know I'm alive.” Dracula's words flowed with a strange energy, a power that willed most other creatures to obey.  
“I haven't seen you, who are you?” Alaister repeated, almost robotically. Dracula continued.  
“You are on your way to the Vaults. Leave.” Alaister nodded slowly, his green eyes vacant as he turned on his feet and began to walk. His thick leather boots clicked against the concrete as he moved to the end of the alley before taking a left and vanishing into the darkness, a hand clutching at his broken ribs as he hobbled away. The girl was still passed out, laid on the floor, her neck dripping slowly with blood from his savage fang marks. Watching her chest rise and fall, he moved closer, sniffing at her bloodied neck once more. Opening his mouth, he moved in again, tearing deeper into the fresh wounds and feasting on the last of the blood she had to give him, the churning worry of the Brotherhood warrior disappearing as he fed and succumbed to another blood induced haze.

The castle was quiet when he entered. The sprites that usually greeted him immediately by the door were quiet and fluttered down into the shadows to sleep as dawn approached. The light sensitive organisms had little love for the day light, much like himself. However, the thing he found most strange was the lack of his son's presence. Usually Alucard would have retired to his room by this time, claiming he was tired, but he couldn't feel a trace of his presence in the castle as he exerted his influence over the place. A statue next to the entry way watched him go past, the metallic eyes creaking slightly as they followed his movements. Frowning, Dracula turned to the metallic structure and nodded. The statue groaned in response, setting it's gaze on the door, the spirit inside under his will. The roaming spirits were useful if they had something to posses, this way he could guard his castle, and the creature would be sure to report everything back to him. If Alucard stepped into that room, he'd know about it. Somewhat worried, he turned on his heels and ascended the stair case, before making his way to his own chamber, a small pull at his heart the only thing telling him his son was in fact still alive. 

A sudden sharp pain through his being, awoke Dracula the next evening. Something was wrong. His eyes shot open, the irises burning red with fury. Bare chested with only his leather breaches covering his body, he whipped out of his room in a cloud of deep red mist. The castle hissed quietly, the walls shaking uneasily. With a hiss Dracula reformed in the entry way. The guard statue stood silent, it's head on the floor. The metallic eyes stared at him, and the glowing green spirit howled, trying to pull the metal back towards the body of the structure. Dracula honed his senses in. A familiar thrum of energy ran through him, and he sighed. Alucard had returned to the castle. He turned his back on the statue and growled before summoning his blood. The viscous liquid whipped around him, forming his grand dark red and gold coat, his black thick boots and the thick bracer belt around his abdomen, before slipping back into his surroundings or into his own form. 

It didn't take him long to find his son. Alucard was muttering to himself as he was laid strewn across the large lounge chair, blood splattered across his chest. Dracula scowled as he strode into the room and drew closer to Alucard's still figure. The white haired vampire lifted his head from it's place on the arm rest and sighed before trying to pull himself upright.  
“Father I-” Dracula growled as he stood over Alucard, looming and concerned, but an angry scowl pulled his eyebrows down.  
“Save your breath. Where have you been? I would not care so much if you had merely turned up fine, but covered in your own blood is another matter.” His voice was low, almost a growl. Alucard frowned up at him, before wincing slightly as his wounds bled out a little more.  
“I was out trying to feed. A nest of monsters had been found under a large abandoned hospital. I wanted to clear it out, apparently their was a nest amongst a nice host of traps and workings from the old castle. I took a wrong step and found myself impaled on spikes. The beasts then took it upon themselves to throw silver nettings over me. Luckily they were as stupid as they looked.” Alucard hissed, his fangs slicing into his bottom lip in pain.  
“Then why are you not healing?” Dracula raised a single dark coloured eyebrow at his son. Alucard grunted as he attempted to sit up from the leather couch.

Without having to question him further, the vampire lord raised his wrist to his mouth, his fangs tearing deep into the pale skin. His corrupt blood flowed out of the wound, thick and dark red in the torch light. Alucard twitched, the scent and sight of the powerful blood alluring. Dracula sighed.  
“Son-” His words died in his throat as Alucard shot off the large seat and latched onto the wound, his own fangs tearing new holes into the soft flesh of his father, and maker's wrist. Gabriel flinched slightly, holding himself steady as he felt the blood leave his body and rush into his son's mouth, the boy's cold tongue lapping over the two torn holes as though he was a starving man- well Alucard was rather wounded, though not on the verge of dying, but definitely ravenous. Alucard snarled drawing back shakily as he wiped at his face and neck with the back of his hand, the blood smearing in streaks across his ashen face. He huffed and growled to himself glaring at Dracula with scorn.

“Why- Why did you do that?!” Alucard snarled at him, wrenching himself backwards further still, away from the sickly alluring aroma of his father's tainted blood. His father merely gave him a cold look.  
“Would you have rather bled out and died, or yet, have laid there until they healed. You would have succumbed to sleep before they had healed, never mind the sun light.” Dracula's tone was cool, and harsh, commanding, yet he spoke the truth. Alucard sighed, watching as the last of his wounds healed over, the strange sensation tingling before it subsided, and the gaping red holes with it.   
“I still do not understand how they managed to use the contraptions to their advantage, or where they acquired silver netting.” Alucard mulled it over as he stretched out his spine, peering around the room, and up to the burning blue torches that hung on the cold grey stone walls. 

Dracula had placed himself in the large arm chair opposite a grand hearth, the stone twisting into gargoyles on each end and various ivy like patterns engraved into the rock. His eyes shined red as he looked Alucard straight in the eye.  
“That still does not explain why you did not simply feed off of them to heal.” He hummed in thought as Alucard rolled his shoulders in a shrug.  
“Would you want to lick blood and entrails up off of the floor?” Dracula curled his nose at this.  
“Point taken son. But why-”  
“They simply exploded when the Crissaegrim touched them. It was strange, I'll admit.” Alucard cut him off before he could ask. Dracula merely turned his gaze back to the hearth before he grabbed a log from by the stone. Summoning his Chaos Claws he quickly set it alight before throwing it into the fire pit. Tossing a few more logs into the blaze, he finally sat back, somewhat more relaxed. The vampire lord watched the flames dance along the wood, deep in thought.

Dracula rapped his black claws against the cold leather of the chair, thoughts of Marie entering his mind. He found a small obsession beginning to form in his mind, and a want to see her again. He'd seen her less that twenty four hours ago, but still she invaded his mind. Her luscious brown hair, her eyes, her scent – everything. Memories he hadn't thought of in years resurfaced as he stared into the fire. He'd been just a squire when he'd met her, under a high ranking officer of the Brotherhood in order for him to train and eventually be his own warrior. Her father had set up his shop in the small village just outside the Brotherhood of Light's compound, and was selling all sorts of devices and trinkets alongside many other daily necessities. She'd been in the shop, stocking the shelves for the merchant when he'd seen her, flowers in her hair from the local children that flocked to her side. A picture of beauty. Gabriel hadn't even realised he'd been staring until he was called away, he'd turned to look one last time to see her smiling, laughing lightly. He'd turned away, in a foul mood, a blush high of his cheeks, chasing after the officer he was assigned to. Years later, they were husband and wife. 

Alucard reclined into the seat next to him, sniffing curiously at the air surrounding him. He scowled at his father, his white hair falling low over his shoulders as he leant forward, darker eyebrows furrowed low as his sharp golden gaze peered at him.   
“You fed on someone did you not? But you smell flowery.” A smirk twisted the corner of his scarred lips upwards, “Did you take to frolicking through a meadow father?”. Dracula glared at his son from the corner of his eyes, his red eyes pulsing brightly.  
“No son, I did not run through a flower patch. Perhaps it was just the perfume that girl had on.” He flipped a hand carelessly, annoyed and willing to be left alone. Alucard was not to be deterred. A small light clicked and he drew back.  
“You found that woman didn't you? The...The one who looked like mother?” 

His father didn't respond but drew his gaze back over to the fire, a solemn look drawing his face downwards. Alucard sighed, pinching at his nose with two slender pale fingers. “Father, you cannot truly believe she-”  
“That I truly believe she is your mother?! No, I do not, but she is damnably like her Trevor! Everything! Even her damn scent is of your mother!” Alucard looked startled for a moment before he frowned lightly, willing himself not to bite back at him for the use of his human name. Dracula rushed from his seat, his coat billowing wildly as he did so. “I will not sit and be belittled by you. I'm leaving for the evening. Do as you will.” He lurched forward, shoving the large doors to the lounge open. They swung open and slammed back against the brick as he left. Alucard growled before bounding after him, his armour clinking harshly as he moved.  
“Father! She is not mother!” He grabbed Dracula's shoulder heaving him backwards. “Mother is dead! She is gone! Why can you not accept this!?” He felt his father go stiff before he was rushing through the air.

“YOU THINK I DO NOT KNOW SHE IS DEAD!” Dracula roared as he advanced. Alucard huffed spinning in the air in a graceful somersault before he landed, claws dragging against the stone as he slowed to a halt. Still his father screamed, his voice shaking the castle walls as the structure responded to his rage. “I watched her leave me! I ended up killing her in the end! She is gone and yet I find I cannot follow her, I cannot be with her...I-I am alone. I'm alone. Abandoned. Even He has left me!” He threw a hand skywards towards the ceiling, “He who chose ME! He who commanded me to kill! He had left me to rot in the darkness, yet still I do his bidding! I cannot rest Alucard! I cannot even bleed out anymore! I don't need to breath! I AM IMMORTAL! UNDYING!” His chest heaved as he finished and Alucard peered at the ground, gritting his teeth as the castle foundations shuddered beneath them both. He opened his mouth only to watch as dark angelic wings burst from his father's back. “I do not expect you to understand,but, just let me see her. This, this is all I have left.” And in a rush of wind he was gone, the castle groaning as its master escaped on the wind.

Alucard frowned, troubled.  
“I understand more than you think father.” And he too felt a change come over him, and he bounded into the night. A white wolf against the blackness of the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh. I'm sorry? But yes this is chapter four. *dramatic music* I hope this was up to the standard everyone was expecting? i had a lot of trouble coming up with ideas recently, but I now know where this story is going so here we have it! I own Alaister. I just thought that having another Belmont would be somewhat repetitive, and difficult to incorporate considering I haven't played all of the Castlevania games, so this little brat was born!   
> Hope you enjoyed!  
> Comments, kudos and bookmarks are all greatly appreciated!  
> Spookworm.


	5. The Vaults

Once again, the pull of Marie and her intoxicating scent amongst his rekindled feelings was strong. However, the lacking entertainment was immediately on his mind. The hunger wasn't present, so that put pointless feeding out of the equation, and he found that there was little else for him to do in this situation. A nagging feeling in the back of his mind screamed for sport and entertainment, but in this new world, there were few ways for an immortal blood drinking vampire to satisfy that need. Humming to himself, he thought about the last night and how he had shattered the poor boy's ribs. Dracula snorted to himself. It was his own fault for trying to go against him. Alaister. A strange name, and the surname was not one known to him during his time in the Brotherhood. There wasn't a trace of an interesting scent either, and lowly, he growled at the annoyance.

The throb of his prodigy hummed within him. His son was close by. Dracula cursed to himself and soared higher into the air, Alucard's presence tugging him downwards. He was calling for him, wanting him to come down, come closer, and the feeling was something unfamiliar to his father. Never once had Alucard called for him, he was used to the familiar throb of his life, but the boy had never needed him, rather he had secluded himself with his hate and had stewed, before finally asking him for help to finally rid the world of the eternal darkness that was Satan. 

Dracula cringed as his son spoke chillingly in his mind.  
 _“Father she is not the woman you once knew. She is from another life and leads it differently to mother.”_  
He hissed at his son, demanding silence in his own head, silence enough with his own demons spewing nonsense. Dropping lower through the clouds, Dracula caught sight of the enormous white wolf bounding through the city behind him, sometimes shifting into a spectral wolf, the fur evaporating into blue and green waves of energy, and teleporting across the buildings and streets.  
 _“She is no longer yours father, and this is not mother, this is not the Marie you knew. She, this woman, is not her father-”_ Alucard was broken off as he was rocketed off of his feet as a wolf, and sent hurtling off of the top of the building. He managed to right himself mid-air, and shifted back, eyes gleaming gold in the darkness, teeth bared against the newcomer.

The creature that had thrown Alucard from the building howled, red light pouring from it's being as it threw it's head back with a roar. It appeared to look like one of Satan's demons, the enormous singular scythe like claws and black curving horns and goat like face were evidence enough for that. But the light and energy that usually poured from those creature's bodies was spluttering, and ruby red in colour. The demon's enormous tongue lolled from the side of it's mouth as its black eyes focused on Alucard, stony faced and calm as ever. Dracula growled to himself, and furled his wings on his back, plummeting downwards through the sky as Alucard rolled, dodging a great claw before summoning the Crissaegrim and slicing into the flesh of the demon's side with a forwards thrust. Alucard clenched his teeth and scowled as he evaporated into bats and latched himself onto the arm of the demon with his claws. The demon shook violently, trying to unhinge the vampire from it's flesh. Alucard dug his claws in a little deeper and flung himself in a somersault, landing on the creature's shoulders just as his father came rocketing out of the sky. He plunged the blade of the Crissaegrim down into the demon's spine as Dracula punched through the rib cage of the demon.

Dracula growled as he grasped the heart of the beast, clutching it tightly as he pulled it free from the great pulsing arteries. Half of the demon's torso had been blown off with the force of the blow, and pieces of skin and muscle hung limply around half shattered ribs. The creature groaned, and Alucard hissed, shoving the blade deeper down the demon's back. It gave out a weak roar, and began flailing as it fell forwards towards the tarmac. A great thud sounded as the twitching demon finally hit the floor, a sigh as the last of the air in it's lungs escaped. The red light emanating from it's body flickered, once, twice, before finally going out. 

The humming from the energy being used by the demon died as it did and Dracula hummed eyeing the heart in his hand. It beat faintly against his palm. Raising the muscle to the low lights, he caught sight of a strange chip in the flesh before he tossed it to his son.  
“I'm in no mood to gorge on the blood of these filthy creatures.” He knelt down elegantly by the corpse of the demon, sniffing as he flicked his coat over the backs of his legs. Alucard caught the heart with a single swift movement and eyed the muscle curiously, sniffing the blood leaking from the arteries and veins over the back of his hand. The blood smelt foul, corrupt somehow, but in a way that made it different from when Satan was controlling the creatures. Alucard licked the back of his hand curiously and scowled at the disgusting taste before spitting it out onto the road.  
“The blood is foul. Almost as if it has been infected with something. Either way we would be unable to keep it down.”

Dracula drew his claws through the entrails of the creature. They were lucky the street was undergoing repairs, otherwise the onlookers would be dead, mutilated, hysterical and most likely, snapping images of the scene. The dragon scowled at the thought but returned to his task. The intestines were covered in more strange runes, faintly glowing red still as their energy drained away. Alucard drew closer, eyeing his father with a distant worry as he looked at the body parts of the creature. Humming, Dracula rose to his feet once more and grabbed the horns on top of the demon's head, wrenching the head hard. The neck snapped and the flesh ripped as he pulled the creature's head free and eyed it's face. Runes had also been carved into it's cheeks and horns, though they no longer glowed with the violent red light. It was strange, though neither vampires had any clue how the creatures had become corrupted so. Alucard peered down at the head, noting the redness leaking from the black soulless eyes of the demon as Dracula leaned in and licked the liquid. He too spat the substance from his mouth but ran his tongue over the sharp points of his canines as he contemplated what it was.

“If it is blood, it has been changed beyond all bounds. It has been poisoned and corrupted somehow.” He tossed the head of the demon aside and stood up as the body erupted into swirling black mist and smouldering ash. The breeze whipped his coat up around him, and Alucard watched as the creature's ashes disappeared into the night's sky.   
“But how is it even still alive. Shouldn't it have passed when Satan was destroyed? It makes no sense father. They cannot live without Satan's will and power, so how is it still even here?” Alucard slowly brought the Crissaegrim down by his left hip, and flicked his wrist, before sheathing the sword in his pocket dimension. Dracula looked over the place where the demon had once been and turned around stretching his back out as he began to walk.

“I have no idea how they've become like this, but....” He summoned his dark wings, the angelic feathers wilted, black and red from the corrupt blood in his veins, “I intend to find out. It would be best if you search for more of those things. I want to know how many there might be.” With his wings spread, ghosting over his figure he turned down the street and took a few running steps before leaping into the air, and soaring away, his wings pounding like the beats of a drum. Alucard watched him go, cat like eyes contemplative as he stretched out his arms and focused, before shifting, and bounding away as a white streak of fur, into the night. He only hoped his father didn't go and do something stupid, or worse yet, get himself killed in the process. He still needed to beat the thoughts of the Marie look-alike out of his head, for his father's own good, if not for his own peace of mind.

Dracula scoured the streets, circling like a bird of prey, eyeing its mouse target through the stems of wheat. He needed a brotherhood member in order to access the Vaults. The vampire lord had no idea where they could be located, and although the church seemed as good an option as any for the bible loving holy warriors, he didn't wish to be ambushed where his powers were useless to him. Much better to find out and then wait for the right opportunity to strike. The holy warriors were no doubt out and about clearing nests of blood gorged bats and gargoyles in attics and mermen from the sewers, but evidence of any of them was fleeting. It was strange, he pondered, that when he wanted them to leave him be, that they showed up on his door, burning his castle and breaking the walls, but when he wanted them to come to him, they should disappear like leaves on the wind. Such was the way of the Brotherhood he supposed. 

Perched on top of a stone gargoyle, Dracula's ruby coloured gaze watched the streets below. He was shadowed by the steep roof of the building, veiled in darkness against prying eyes. It was perfect cover for people watching, and he didn't have to wait as long as he had thought for an armed member to stand out amongst the crowd. The brunette man was lithe but well built, and moved among the crowd like silk, gliding between men and women easily, as though he wasn't there at all. His leather jacket was covered in armour plates, over his arms and the entirety of his chest in a way that looked as though he was just a little quirky. The greeves however might have been a give away if one looked closely enough. The katana on his back was, and Dracula would give him this one, very well disguised beneath the plating he was wearing, the handle merely looking like a decorative piece attached to his jacket. Dracula found his lips curling upwards as he swooped over to the next building and the next, following the young man until he turned into a long alley. Perfect, he mused, before gracefully dropping from the roof, folding his wings, the black appendages disappearing as he landed with a barely audible thud behind the man.

What he didn't expect was to find was four swords impaled into his torso, the blades rupturing his heart, lungs and splitting open his intestines. Dracula clicked his tongue, growling as the blades were ripped through his body, out of the other side, though he was glad none of his organs were ripped out with them too. Eyes lighting up red, Dracula hissed, the sound reverberated from deep within his chest, predatory and unearthly. The brotherhood member snorted and flicked his wrist once more, shifting his fingers in another sign that sent a pulse of energy towards the vampire. He evaporated into mist, whipping around and up into the air. The man shifted his fingers again and sent another barrage of swords towards Dracula. The katanas sliced through the air, whistling like missiles as they were fired towards him. Dracula rotated, dodging two of the blades before summoning the Void Sword to parry the others, sending them flying into the walls of the darkened alleyway.

A smirk spread across the young man's lips as his blade lit up, the katana copying itself again before sending another barrage Dracula's way. The prince of darkness growled spinning to hit the blades back towards his quarry. They sliced through the air and shattered against the ground and against the real copy of the sword, evaporating into pixilated bright blue dust. Dracula pushed forward, on the offensive, smashing the void sword quicker and harder into the oncoming projectiles, pirouetting and sliding through the air as smoke to dodge the ones he couldn't hit in his rhythm. The brotherhood warrior scowled, a bead of sweat running down his face from the exertion, and the energy being sapped in order to use his abilities. He stumbled as a sword shot past his face and Dracula roared, sliding forwards, the flat of the void sword smacking across the back of the man's head. Dazed, he stumbled and fell onto one knee, swaying violently until Dracula grasped his sword, flinging it aside so hard it embedded itself into the wall and shook with the impact.

Gasping, the man scrambled to his feet and tossed a flask at Dracula's feet, the concoction erupting in a shower of sparks. The fire licked to life across the rubbish scattered in the alley, but Dracula snorted, flexing his shoulders, the chaos claws bursting into being over his hands and wrists. The claws burnt brighter than any flame and he chuckled holding his hands out in front of him before flinging them out by his hips. The fire threw itself aside, crackling against the walls of the alleyway though no where near the vampire. He merely stepped past them, unharmed by the attack. The man struggled for a crystal on his belt but fumbled as he retrieved the blue rock. It skittered across the floor and he cursed eyeing his sword worriedly as the vampire overlord sped forwards, fang glinting dangerously.

Just as he was about to bolt for the sword, Dracula had him by the arms, pinning them behind him, his hands pressing the warrior's head forwards painfully.  
“Now you are going to do what I ask, and tell me all I want to know, otherwise I will make this much more painful for you than it has to be.” Dracula pushed his hands forwards just to demonstrate how easy it would be for him to tear the head in his palm's clean off.   
“I will tell you nothing, monster.” The warrior was scarily calm, and that irked the vampire more than it should have. Dracula rolled his eyes but pressed a little firmer, waiting for him to give. He did not. Sighing he grappled the boy to the ground and pushed him onto his back, pining him in place with one heavy leather boot gripping his chin with a black clawed hand. Red eyes, glowing he forced the man to look into them, and was quickly in control.

“What is 'The Vault'?” Dracula released his tight grip on the brotherhood member and continued to look into the man's glossy coated eyes.  
“Its a brotherhood research facility.” He responded like a robot.   
“Elaborate. What do you do down there?” Dracula picked at a nail, slightly bored by the revelation.  
“They test on monsters. They cage them, train them, keep them. Demons too. They test on them. Resurrect them.” Now this he was interested in. He pressed his plated boot further into the man's gut.  
“Is that all?” A nod was his reply. Thinking the information over, Dracula tugged the katana free of the wall, admiring the silver edged blade quietly.  
“Where is it?”The man was quiet for a moment, his lips trembling, and Dracula feared he had overcome the compulsion.  
“Mountain View, Victory Plaza.” Dracula blinked, clenched and unclenched his fists before nodding to himself. He quickly pushed the katana in his hand back into the sheath, on the warriors back, and licked his teeth before plunging them messily into the exposed neck before him. Ripping and tugging harshly, he made it seem as if a fledgling vampire, a vampire of new birth without a sound mind, had caught him, before greedily guzzling as much as he could. Luckily, when he finished, the man was still breathing evenly. He was still alive at least. Carefully Dracul pushed a few more holes in the neck with his claws and arranged the man across the alley, barely visible in the shadows. Dracula then span on his heal and soared into the sky licking the blood from his claws, happy with the outcome of the evening.

The place was not easy to find. Dracula had the location but not exactly where or how he was to actually get into the place. He spent a small amount of time scouring the street, sniffing and eyeing the old stones for signs of secret entrances. There was little in the way of an indication of a secret lab or brotherhood settlement. Mountain view was just as the name said, a street with a view of the mountains were snow fell and the winds blew bitter cold. There wasn't even a sliver of a trace of the Brotherhood. That was, until, he pressed his boot onto a loose cobble stone. The stone clicked and the sound of grinding stones resounded as a gap opened up in the floor. The slab dropped an inch and slide open to reveal a set of stairs descending into darkness. Dracula sighed and dropped into the hole, his eyes quickly adjusting to the lack of light, glittering like rubies as the stone door closed over his head, plunging him into utter darkness.

The sound of faint voices echoed along the stinking tunnels along with the dripping of water down the mossy stones. The stench of damp and rot was all around and Dracula moved through the halls silently, coat swirling behind him purposefully as he drew closer to the noise, his nose curled slightly at the scent. The voices were masculine, and Dracula peered around a corner to see another long grey stone walled corridor, and at the end of it, two men stood outside of a ghastly looking door. The door was lead up to by twig covered arches, the twigs having once been ivy of some sort, large blood red jewels embedded into the key stone of each arch. The twisted looking door emanated its own aura, two eyes bulging out of where the hoop handles would be, large and bulbous though decorative like suns with large yellow eyelashes and golden irises. Tarnished metal prongs covered the outside around the frame and dove into the wood like hinges. Lastly, a great, long, double headed serpent looped across and around the wood, curving off of the door over two bowls on both the left and right of the door. The contraption was like nothing Dracula had ever seen. 

Quietly, he watched until the two men turned towards the door, still loudly discussing a girl at one of the local bars as they placed their hands against the snake's fangs and squeezed a few glistening drops from their fingers, into the dishes. The snakes groaned as their metal bodies uncoiled around the door and slid upwards around the door frame, eye flashing with the blood that had been offered. The eyes moved separately and rested on each member before eyelids closed over the top of them and the doors slowly heaved themselves open. Dracula took his opportunity and ran behind them whipping into a mist, launching himself to the right as he flew through the doors and reappeared in the shadows. The sight before him astounded the centuries old vampire.

The skeleton before him was enormous in size, the bones of the toes of the creature a metre in length. Immediately Dracula knew what it was. A dragon skeleton was something he never thought he would ever see, but here one was, right in front of him. The creature would easily tower over a house, and was no doubt double if not triple one in length. The wing span was enormous and Dracula felt the shivering urge of his own dragon form curling to life inside him. He reached into the pocket inside his coat and pulled out the palm sized talisman, deep grey scales glittering strangely in the light, the dragon on the front snarling. His eyes flickered from the talisman to the ancient creature and he cracked a small smile. The hall was even taller than the dragon skeleton and Dracula wondered just how deep underground he had come. There was a sparse scattering of brotherhood members and fewer still, ones that were actually armed and not in lab coats. The vampire lord moved along the shadows shifting quickly to posses a rat curled up by boxes of supplies. He then scurried along by the wall until reaching a small hole in the stone and slipping through it to the other side. Again, he found himself shocked.

The walls were lined with glass tanks, reading equipment attached to each, and in each was a demon or monster of some sort, developed or underdeveloped. Green liquid bubbled through each and few of the creatures moved in their suspended states. The most movement was a merman reaching to touch the glass, though the creature had been blessed with a more human appearance. 'Subject #17' was written across the top of the tank. The bottom half was fish but the top half man, though the eyes were still large and slitted, throat covered in gills and the hands webbed and clawed. The monster gargled in the liquid and grinned a toothy grin, the teeth sharp like knives, before wriggling in the tank, testing out its limbs. A leg of meat was then tossed in through a opened hole and the monster set about the meal, ripping it apart like a starved animal. The researchers nodded to one another, scribbling on their clipboards as they strode away to the computers at the end of the room. 

Dracula scurried closer as a rat and put his tiny paws on the metal before peering up into the liquid. The merman froze and span around in the tank squinting at the other tanks in the room before peering down and looking directly at the vampire. The monster cocked it head to one side and bent down, its mouth clumsily forming the work 'my lord' through the water. The vampire nodded as a rat and recoiled into the shadows as the researchers watched from a distance, scribbling the half fish's interactions with its environment. The merman watched him go around the back of its tank and pressed its claws to the glass, scratching at the material experimentally. There wasn't a scratch left in its wake. It hissed, gills flaring angrily as it battered its tail against the glass in anger, eyes narrowing, flaring purple with a strange power. Runes flared to life over its cheeks and forehead, glowing in patterns across the top of its chest and down the valley of its abdominal muscles. They were similar to the twisted demon Dracula had encountered earlier in the evening. The scientists were quick to act and one merely adjusted his glasses, clicking the equipment next to the tank. A gas bubbled through the liquid and the merman howled and grew sluggish, slowly as the sedative began to work. The creature eyed him as its eyes fluttered shut, 'my prince' uttered as it succumbed to sleep, the runes disappearing with the purple light.

Never had he imagined this scale of testing. If the hundreds of tanks were anything to go by, then the brotherhood was definitely up to something in this run down place. He scuttled on through the room until he reached the very back of the room. A keycard was needed to continue, so he waited, scuttling in behind one of the researchers as they entered. The room hummed quietly as the tanks in here bubbled with dark red blood. The tanks were long and stretched down each wall, two on each, to the very end of the room, gurgling and churning with gallons upon gallons of blood. Dracula sniffed at the air and curled his little nose in distaste. They were harvesting the blood of the creatures they were growing in the other room, but for what purpose? That, he couldn't even begin to fathom.

Having had his fill of disturbing sights, Dracula slipped back out of the blood tank room and into the monster lab. He watched the scientists prod an enormous red coloured gargoyle and shifted in the shadows, peering at the buttons on the large control panel. There was a release button to each tank, and grinning, he smashed a few random ones before releasing the merman and draining its tank. The liquid and creature were instantly flushed out of the tank, the bottom disappearing so the contents spilled out into a drainage system of some sort. Grinning, Dracula swung back into the shadows to satisfying screams as the researchers were torn apart by their own creations. He shifted back into a rat just in time to watch warriors burst into the room and begin to cut down the monsters. Using the distraction, he scurried out and towards a shadowy corner before flying up through a ventilation shaft as mist. He had learnt a lot in the small space of time, and he had no doubts that it would be useful in the future, along with that mermaid, he supposed, he had just saved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... I finally managed to write this and I've got a good idea where I'm going with this for now and hopefully, once my exams have actually completely finished and the summer is a bit closer I can write some more. Sorry about the INCREDIBLY slow progress but it's very hard to write with so much to do. Maybe a merman made up for it? I have some plans for our little fishy friend.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading.  
> Reviews, follows and favourites are all greatly appreciated!  
> Feel free to tell me about any errors and I will try my best to rectify them.
> 
> Spookworm.


	6. Scriptures of Memories

Reforming out of a small shaft, Dracula sighed, pulling himself into a solid form, focusing his shape from the particles of mist and ash he had used to navigate the aeration shafts leading down into the Brotherhood's underground hide out. The alley way he materialised in was dark in shadows, and rats nattered to each other, squeaking as he appeared, looking up at him with small glowing red eyes. Dracula peered down at the small creatures with a sharp toothed smile and leaned down running a claw across the dark fur of one of the rats before stepping away, the rats squeaking behind him in the shadows. Looking around, he saw no one, and summoned his dark wings, spreading them wide, before launching into the air and heaving himself up onto the roof of the large industrial building next to him. It was plain and concrete. Landing on the roof top, Dracula perched himself on the edge among the crude gargoyles the designer had seen fit to place on the raised church like top near one end of the building.

Slowly, he watched the ant sized humans scuttle around, most trying to get home as quickly as possible in the darkness. They at least retained some of their ancient embedded instinct- darkness meant danger. Gabriel chuckled at the thought, they still had no idea just how much danger lurked in the darkness of Castlevania. Scenting the air, Dracula lifted his nose and paused for a moment, smelling the scent of sewer stink and the foul, sour stench of monsters. The creatures were evidently starving if it meant they had taken to the streets so quickly after release, or maybe revenge hadn't satisfied their blood lust enough. It was then that his head rang with a strange presence, and Alucard's voice whispered, seemingly from nowhere, over the breeze.

“Father, why are there creatures in the sewers? I assume this is of your work...if the innards hanging from their mouths weren't enough of an indication.” Alucard snorted indignantly, and Dracula could imagine the curled nose and flash of fang Alucard would be displaying with that sentence.  
“I found their little underground test centre. I simply set their little creations loose against them. Call it, a little ‘stirring of the pot’. I want to see what these things are really capable of, son, and letting them loose on their captives was the perfect way to do that.” Dracula curled his claws, peering at them before unfurling his wings once more, and gliding down to the ground, finding a sewer drain cover he could comfortably fit through.  
“I assume the fact that a merman is following me means that it wants to find you?” Alucard's voice was cold and annoyed, “Off with you creature!”  
Dracula pulled the drain cover off, drifting down the hole in a cloud of mist, “Entertain it until I get there, son, I would like to speak to the creature.”

It wasn't difficult to follow the own corrupt stench of his blood, and he quickly found Alucard carefully keeping his distance from a hissing merman. The monster's head fins were fanned out around its face as it spat at the son of Dracula and electricity crackled in its mouth, snapping across its teeth. Even more peculiar was the runes glowing to life across it's thin sheen of scaled skin. They swirled with a light violet colour as it prowled forwards, towards Alucard, teeth bared, ready to pounce on the younger vampire. Dracula walked around the corner, a scowl on his face and he gazed at the creature through the corners of his eyes, red irises glowing. The merman spotted him, and purred in delight, pulling itself along the concrete pathway of the sewer towards it's master. Rubbery fins vibrated together as the Prince ran his hand over the runes covering the creature's scales.

“My prince,” The creature hissed, staring up at the vampire lord with reverent ocean blue bulbous eyes, “thank you, thank you for saving me.” Claws raked across the stone as the merman adjusted itself, dipping its tail into the foul water of the sewer. “Those humans, they received painful deaths, my lord. We tore them to shreds for you. A few escaped. My brothers and sisters are hunting them-” Alucard looked disgustedly upon the creature and sheathed his sword, piercing golden eyes watching the runes glow bright.  
Dracula placed his claw against the merman's neck, “Call off the hunt, I do not need them to know of my meddling.” The merman nodded and hung its head. Dracula raised it again, “Now tell me about what they have done to you.”  
Dark eyes looked up at him, suddenly glowing purple, “They have made me strong my prince. And smarter. Everything is much clearer now. My powers are strange now too, stronger.” The merman slurred his words, the 's' sounds hissed through his teeth. “They used tools of strange design, made of burning metals, and chanted from old texts. I know nothing of what they said.”

Dracula eyed the creature again, analysing the sincerity of its expression that showed it wasn't lying. The rune covered creature stared up at him, large watery eyes filled with a desire to please and serve.  
“Do you know where they are keeping the texts in question?” Dracula curled his hands and watched the creature scratch its head.  
“The archive, but there are many my lord. I do not know which would have the texts you wish to look at, but most are stored in the churches I think.” The merman hung its head in shame and chipped its nail into the concrete.  
“Thank you, return to the castle.” Dracula flipped his hand dismissively and the merman leapt into the water, swimming away from the two vampires. He turned to his son with a small sigh, “It seems I will have to infiltrate the Brotherhood yet again.”  
Alucard pushed himself up straight from where he was leaning against the wall of the sewer, “Surely you are joking? It suicidal trying to go and find those texts, and you know it, Father.” Golden eyes squinted at him in disdain and Alucard shook his head, white hair flicking over his shoulders. Dracula eyed his son, a deadly serious look on his face, and Alucard sighed, knowing there was no arguing with him. “I'll round up the rest of the creatures.” He walked away, the clink of his greaves heavy against the stone.  
“Make sure Chupacabra sees to their containment. I want the rune covered ones for examination.”

Churches were a classic place for the Brotherhood to store things. The amount of churches in the city was ridiculous though. From small Mormon churches to the large catholic cathedral in the centre of the city, any of them could have the texts he was looking for. Knowing the Brotherhood's tendency to gravitate towards the holiest grounds, Dracula pondered as to whether the answer could be inside his own tomb. But, the Brotherhood probably raided that years ago, and the cathedral was most likely no longer known as a holy place considering it was Dracula's resting place, and he could walk freely on the premises. The cathedral was now probably cast aside now as a place of darkness. The vampire twitched, feeling at his chest where Alucard had driven the sword through his heart hundreds of years ago. The slicing pain was something he could remember clearly, and he ran a finger down where a scar should have been, wondering, contemplative as he assessed which church grounds to investigate first. Perhaps the oldest churches first. Spreading his wings, Dracula jumped from the roof top and glided before swooping upwards and away into the clouds in search of the oldest churches in the city.

A few of the churches were abandoned, and most of them in the process of being destroyed to make way for blocks of apartments which could be used to house the growing population of the city. Since the destruction by Satan, life seemed to have returned to normal once more. Assuming these buildings were empty, Dracula moved onto the final church he could think of. The holy building was the largest of those left, and the vampire watched the entry ways for a few hours, watching the flow of a few armed guards in and out of the back entrance and basement. He had found the correct place it seemed. Most of the men and women were armed with swords, a few large bows or crossbows and short blades. It seemed the Brotherhood had given up on teaching the ways of the combat cross and whip movements. The only one he had encountered with the techniques thus far was Alistar, and even his was a silver lined whip, not a combat cross. The silver whip would do little more than kill lowly demons. Humming, he watched the flow of people, before floating to the ground with his wings and creeping around the perimeter of the grounds.

There was a small crack in the window around the back of the church, and Dracula smiled, evaporating into a cloud of red mist. As he faded into smoke, his eyes glinted in the darkness, shining rubies against the stone. Carefully, he weaved his way up the stone and pushed his form through the small hole in the glass, made from a pebble being tossed at the church. The rebuttal of the church had been violent in the aftermath of Satan's ravaging of the city. People had vandalised many of the holy houses and pestered ministers, blaming them for the ills that had befallen them all. The Brotherhood had kept quiet after that, moving in the shadows, operating under the radar as not to arouse suspicion while keeping the city relatively safe from the few creatures of Dracula that still inhabited the place. The gap he had to move himself through was minuscule, and it took a couple of minutes for Dracula to get all of himself into the church. He hoped that no one was walking past in that moment to spot him.

Opening his eyes, Dracula adjusted in the low light easily. There was a lack of electric lights which meant candles were lit, lining the corridors, molten wax dripping down the old stone. The halls were deadly silent, and lined with tapestries which fluttered in the draft that blew down the corridors. There was little sign of life, and Dracula carefully moved to press himself up against a wall before sniffing the air. Musty old books. They had an archive or library of some sort. He sniffed again, and his eyes opened wide. The scent of lavender and the sweet and cosy scent he only associated with one woman. Marie. Eyeing the corridor, he hastened onwards, following his nose towards the sweet waft of his dead lover's scent.

Misting under two large, heavy wooden double doors, Dracula reformed himself in the shadows of the many rows of bookcases. They stretched along each and every wall up to the ceiling with rows of them across the room evenly spaced apart so one could walk around them like a maze. Thousands of books lined the shelves, and the vampire looked around in awe of the collection which made his own appear a meagre collection. This was an archive with detailed histories spanning hundreds if not thousands of years in languages from across the globe. Dracula peered at the spine of one book, running a black claw down the gold lettering in Romanian. He muttered the title before turning the corner and scenting the air again. Primroses flooded his nose and he ghosted around the edges of the bookcases, peering down the rows before he made it to the centre of the library.

Marie was sat at the table in the middle, books and scrolls spread across the long dark wood table, ribbons slipping onto the floor and papers strewn around her feet. She was pouring over a large ancient book, the deer skin wrapping coming loose from the pages tucked inside. Dracula watched her turn the page and scribble something down in her notebook before turning her rotating chair slightly, so she could look at a scroll to her right. The vampire lord's eyes glinted as he moved around in the shadows, melting in and out of them around the bookcases until he was stood behind her position at the table. Without taking in any breath, and forcing his body to silence, he peered over Marie's shoulder, her floral smell filling his senses. The texts were in Latin mainly, a few in Spanish. A brief glance at the Latin told him these were the texts the Merman was referring to. They recited various instances of Satanist rituals, and most were accounts of how they were done and the meagre outcomes. Strange runes were transcribed on the opposite pages. Marie turned the page before he could catch them all, and then stopped dead.

A shiver ran up her back and Dracula flinched, making no noise before evaporating into mist and floating, running his misty fingers through Marie's hair as he moved upwards, out of sight. Marie flipped around then, her hair flying around her face as she shivered, rubbing at her arms.  
“I swear...I thought someone was there.” Muttering, she turned back to her books and leafed through the next few pages tutting to herself. Dracula floated against the ceiling, slowly making his way towards the window ledge, careful not to drop too low. Reforming on the ledge he crouched down, watching as Marie yawned and packed away some scrolls in her bag, before moving around the room, placing away books and tomes.

She hurried back to her bag and smiled as she opened her phone. A pang of jealously ran through the vampire as she dialled a number and giggled down the line.  
“Alaister! You can't send me those things at work!” She scolded him with a playful smile on her face and Dracula's blood boiled. A red haze coated the edges of his vision as he listened to her playfully talk to the Brotherhood fool. His inner self coiled tight in his stomach, envy flaring to life as it hissed curses, how Marie could be his if he dealt with the boy speaking to her. It coiled deep within him, writhing and screaming. Dracula shook his head before pinching the bridge of his nose, calming his mind, trying to suppress the blood lust swirling to life within him. Marie sauntered away to the door, and Dracula lost sight of her, the only reminder she had been in the room being her floral, warm scent. Leafing through the texts she had left on the table, Dracula snorted at the satanic nonsense scribbled on the pages. The sound of Marie’s heels clicking against the flag stone heading back made him pause, completely still. She had turned around and come back for something. 

Dracula floundered for a moment, before recovering and shifting his appearance in time for the woman to come around the corner. She was fiddling with her bag, pushing a scroll into it and trying to zip it shut. She didn’t look up until she collided with Gabriel’s chest. The vampire had flushed his skin as best he could and wore a dark black coat over dark jeans and a black long-sleeved t-shirt. Black leather work boots covered his feet and he shook his hair a little, the waves getting caught in a dangling ear-ring. He cursed himself for taking notice of the youth he had seen walking down the street in the outfit one night. Marie smacked her forehead against Gabriel’s chest and bounced backwards slightly.

Dracula gently grasped Marie’s shoulders and caught her before her back could smack into the shelving full of books behind her. The brown-haired woman made a small noise, a rush of air from her lungs, and a sharp gasp as she looked up, her eyes scraping across the chest of the man in front of her. Her eyes lingered on the cross dangling from his ear, and she coughed, taking a step backwards out of Gabriel’s grip.   
“I-I’m sorry I didn’t see you there, Sir. I didn’t think anyone else was working this late in the library.” Marie raised a sceptical eyebrow, and Gabriel snapped at his gleeful inner self which curled to life in his gut. It took him a second longer than it should have for him to form a sentence.   
“I came here to read about the acolytes. This is usually the time when you get the least stares- when there’s no one here.” Gabriel chuckled and tucked a piece of hair behind his ear stopping the jangling earring from getting caught up in the strands.  
“The acolytes? You mean the children of Satan, yes? They were all killed before the slaying of their father. No one knows who was responsible. I’m guessing you’re trying to find clues about the legendary warrior too?” She smiled and gave a gentle laugh before moving around Gabriel to collect her purse from the floor.

Gabriel nodded at her, “It amazes me that no one knows a thing about it. There’s not one person who saw any of the events. Even the left-over city guards were gutted in their sleep.” He let the memory of culling the last remaining city guardsmen wash over him for a moment, and quickly tossed it away.  
Marie leaned over the chair tucked under the table, her arms resting on the backrest, “If you want my opinion…” She leaned closer and Gabriel bent his knees to listen, catching whiffs of her soft, warm scent, “It all seems like a massive cover up. Like they didn’t want the person to be found. Must mean it’s some weirdo in a high security institute somewhere, right?” She laughed and tucked her purse away in her bag.   
“Yes, something like that, probably.” Marie’s laughter was infectious, and Gabriel found himself chuckling with her. 

“Anyway, now that I’ve got my purse, I’ll leave you to your research Mister…” Marie rotated her hand, her brow creasing as she tried to think of the name of the man in front of her.   
Helpfully, Gabriel supplied his own name, “Gabriel.” And then cursed himself for his stupidity as Marie smiled at him, a twinkle in her eyes.  
“Such a Christian name. Gabriel the messenger of God. It’s like the warrior from the legends of old, the one who defeated the Lords of Shadow. Your parents must have thought you were destined for great things.” Marie snickered and placed her purse away, hiking her bag a little higher on her shoulder.  
Gabriel thought on his name for a moment and the parents who had died, leaving him an orphan in the care of the brotherhood. He’d taken his last name because he loved the mountains so much. A bitter taste rose in his mouth as he tried to push his memories aside once more, “Perhaps. Maybe it came to them in a dream.” Gabriel snorted at the thought internally but smiled pleasantly at Marie. 

A beeping broke the gentle atmosphere of teasing and Marie jumped, wrestling her phone out of her bag, she tapped the screen and sighed before waving the device defeatedly. “It looks like I need to get home, but it was nice talking to you, Gabriel. If you want some help translating any demonic scriptures don’t hesitate to ask for me, or leave a note with the librarian, he’s usually asleep on the second floor, bless the old soul.” She waved once more, and Gabriel gave a gentle nod and a brief wave of his hand as she disappeared around the corner. Her scent curled around him like a warm embrace, and the vampire lord gritted his teeth, smashing his fist on top of the table, the wood splintering beneath the force. Sombrely, he turned away, the scrolls he could salvage gripped in his claws as he shifted into smoke, and made a hasty escape from the haunting memories of his previous life. 

The sewers were crawling with creatures. Alucard grumbled as he pinned a feral merman to the wall of the small corridor of the sewer. He tightened his hand around the monster's neck, claws scrapping against the armoured scales covering the merman's skin. The creature clawed against Alucard’s gauntlets, its tail battering against the wall as it struggled to free itself from the vampire's grip. Alucard hissed and drew his blade before pushing it through the merman's chest, caving in its heart. The merman thrashed around, howling in pain, its eyes glowing blue with electricity, before falling limp, its head hanging over Alucard's hand. The vampire's lips curled in disgust as dark blue coloured blood spurted over his chest. The merman's body convulsed once more before beginning to melt away into ashes and smoke. 

Alucard let the body fall to the ground and blocked the gnashing teeth of an enraged Scaven. The teeth of the hound like creature were caught around the blade and the monster roared, the skull face shaking as it tried to dislodge itself. Alucard kicked the Scaven hound away and sighed as runes on the creatures back flared to life. Dragging the thing back to the castle wasn’t an option. Whispers sounded down the halls. Alucard’s back curled in a shiver as he heard the bubbling of viscous liquid. Moaning and screams echoed down the long tunnel of the sewer, and the silver-haired vampire watched as Dracula’s cursed blood seeped through the cracks in the stone, dripping down the walls to form large puddles of moving liquid. It quickly accumulated, voices still howling in the halls, and moved as one mass towards the hound, the runes flaring with power. The creature’s head twitched, the skull smacking against the stone with the violent, jerky movement. The blood hissed, pooling beneath the monster, before grabbing the Scaven’s fur and limbs with arm-like extensions, pulling it down into the darkness to be transported to the dungeons of the castle. 

The Scaven howled its defiance and began chewing at the blood limbs, desperate to be free as the blood poured into its eyes and pulled it deeper, like the tentacles of a deep-sea terror. The blood screamed back at the dog-like creature and eventually submerged the struggling monster in the pool, forming a deep red, undisturbed puddle before slowly disintegrating back into the stone, moving back up the walls and into the rocks from whence it came. The blood said no words to him, but Alucard shivered again nonetheless. His father’s blood was unpredictable, and the younger vampire still didn’t know if he had full control of the moving masses yet. Hopefully it was his father’s orders that caused such an event, but he would ask to be sure. Otherwise they would soon have blood infested rune covered monsters to deal with. 

Alucard sheathed his sword with a flash of silver, and palmed the intricate metal pommel, a soothing motion for his nerves, as he listened for the whispers of Dracula’s blood or the movement of any more creatures. A mermaid bubbled in the water, but quickly vanished as he opened his mouth, fangs flashing for the underwater monster to see. It was quiet, and Alucard wondered whether the blood had done more than take one Scaven back to the small area of the castle, but had been capturing and taking all the mutated monsters. For his sake, and the people’s sake, he hoped not. Dashing forwards, Alucard span into a cloud of bats and flew up through a small air ventilation duct, the bats screeching, scaring a couple of passers-by as they exploded through the grating. 

The night air was cool, and Alucard dashed up a building, his claws making easy work of the brick, pulling himself upwards with inhuman strength, flinging himself into the air. He landed with a thud of metal and looked at the moon, the brightness waning as dawn approached. The young vampire needed to be quick in his retreat to the castle, otherwise the sun would hinder his every step. The last thing Alucard needed was to be set ablaze by the morning rays. Running across the tip of the roof, he leaned to one side, sliding down the tiling before launching into the air again and evaporating into a cloud of bats. The small animals moved in tandem, ducking beneath lamp posts and dodging small early morning birds. Alucard grinned in the mob and pushed them faster, climbing in altitude before soaring downwards and sliding into a side alley, his senses tingling with the rush and a sense of foreboding. It was silent. A plastic bag slide along the tarmac, and Alucard twitched, his eyes glittering in the shadows as he watched the rubbish roll past. Nothing. He shivered and stepped into his wolf form, shaking his fur before bolting from shadow to shadow. Something in the air was sour. 

The small remanence of the castle that still stood was towards the outskirts of the city, by the forests edge, and the majority of the remaining underground structures were still intact. Alucard slipped in the large foyer doors and shook his white fur, howling down the halls. The ghoul by the door seemed to hiss at him, its armour clinking as it shifted the halberd in its grasp. Alucard shifted and scowled, fangs glinting at the soul, “Don’t make me tear your head off a second time, spirit.” The ghoul simmered in its shell, but moved the halberd back by its side and turned its rusty head back to facing the door. A bog eyed sprite appeared moments later in a pop of black glitter, wringing its hands, babbling their usual gibberish language. Alucard merely followed the small creature and gave a smile, not opening his mouth to reveal the large fangs. 

Dracula was lounging in his chair by the fireplace, his head rested in one hand, his other hand tapping out a rhythm on the arm rest. The library was warm and Alucard huffed at the unnecessary heat, walking into the room. His father merely side eyed him, red eyes flickering over him in an assessment, before returning to watching the flames. Alucard sighed, moving over to the pile of scrolls on the small table. Unrolling one, his eyes widened.  
“Father.” Alucard walked back over to the vampire lord and held the scroll out accusingly, “where have you been? These are not ordinary Brotherhood tomes…” He watched his father’s gaze turn dark, the fire swirled on itself and the younger vampire shook his head. “That woman, you saw her again, yes?” Still, Dracula made no move, only gripped his chair a little tighter before closing his eyes, his eyebrows drawn together in pain.  
“She was…in the library of the Brotherhood and I…” He saw his father’s head fall into his hands and gently placed the scroll aside.

Dracula drew his hands away from his face and stared at his hands. Clawed and pale, a drop of blood fell from his face. He looked up at Alucard and gritted his teeth. There was so much of Marie in their boy, his cheekbones, his nose and his face shape were Marie’s. Alucard hesitated for a moment before leaning down before his father. Tentatively, he wrapped his arms around the Prince of Darkness and gave his father a gentle squeeze, ignoring the blood dripping onto his coat from his father’s eyes.  
“We both miss her father. We miss her dearly, but trying to project your feelings onto another human…” He said nothing more, but hugged his father tightly, content to try and feel something he never had before. Dracula hesitantly hugged his son, cradling his head close before wiping the blood from his eyes and petting the white hair. Somehow, they would endure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't kill me for it being so long. I got inspired. Hope you enjoyed, please feel free to leave constructive criticisms or your thoughts and feelings. I know I've got some Dad Drac feels. *wipes away tear*


	7. Boiling Blood

Dawn had just broken by the time Alucard had retired from his father for the night. Dracula’s need for sleep was small, whereas his sons was more necessary for his survival, not having the pure corrupt blood of his father. The vampire lord lounged on his throne, blinking at a book in his grasp before letting his eyes droop closed for a few moments, his head resting in one hand. The castle groaned around him a gentle noise as it closed the doors to the small throne room he had created. The plush red curtains were released by small gargoyles, blocking out the sun’s rays as their master succumbed to a light slumber. The arm of the chair carefully wrapped around the spine of the book and eased it from Dracula’s grasp. Silence sat over the hall as the inhabitants of the castle finally fell into slumber with their dark lord. 

Dracula gasped awake hours later, his eyes shooting open. The torches around the room flickered to life instantly, blue flames roaring in their holders. The vampire looked around the hall, hands gripping the seat he had fallen asleep in. Only the castle greeted him, rumbling warmly around him, the stones shifting to make noise. Dracula pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned back into his seat. The nightmares had struck again. Marie’s face clouded his mind, speckled with blood, her dress drenched with it, a gaping wound from ear to ear. Blood spewed from her throat and all she could do was gurgle over the hand that was trying to staunch the flow. She had grinned at him with pink teeth, blood flowing over her lips as she coughed and reached out for him. He tried to force the memory from his mind, flinching at the memory of what he had done to his wife under the influence of the Devil Mask. The vampire had no recollection of the events, but his mind found ways to torture him for what he had done. 

Despite the daylight hours, a small pixie managed to appear next to him, a chalice held with great difficulty, all its limbs gripping the lip to hold it up. Dracula took the cup and sniffed the contents, rolling his tongue over his teeth. The hunger bubbled under the surface but was submerged beneath the weight of the guilt and fright that had consumed him moments earlier. The pixie wiggled in the air and gave a small wave before disappearing, yawning as the black smoke curled around it’s body, teleporting it back to its nest. Sipping the blood, Dracula found the taste almost non-existent in his mouth, and curled his nose, placing the goblet on the small table by his chair. It was then that he noticed the book he had been reading, carefully held in place by the arm of the chair. With a small shake of his head, he smoothly pried the metal away and took his book back. He’d been reading it to try and follow up on some of the runes he had encountered in the scrolls. The tome was heavy reading, and laboriously slow with detail. Everything was heavily described in too much depth, or briefly passed over and forgotten. 

Dracula snapped the book shut with a growl and placed it by his leg, rubbing his eyes. The precious hours of rest he had gotten seemed to have eased some of his stresses, and the vampire eased himself upwards with liquid grace, the long leather coat flowing over the backs of his legs. Something coiled in the shadows, and Gabriel’s eyes shot to the corner of the room. The castle growled, stones grinding against one another in uncertainty. Hissing erupted from the shadows and a foot stepped out of the darkness. Slowly, a woman stepped out of the shadow, and Dracula recoiled at the sight before him. It was like in his dream. Marie walked towards him, her hand reaching for him, blood pouring down her front. Her glassy eyes were dim, but her smile was gleeful. 

Dracula hissed his defiance to the ceiling, “This game you’re playing with me castle, it will not work this time. I have my memories, all of them, I will not be fooled by your trickery!” He backed away from the bloodied visage of Marie and grimaced as her red stained hands reached for him again, desperation painting her features. The blood in the corners of the room hissed, the screams of the dead mocking him.  
“My lord! Stay here my lord. You cannot leave, we won’t let you! You need us my lord!” The dreaded liquid surfaced and bubbled against the walls, the castle groaning and spitting as it seeped into the stone. Marie stumbled closer, her dress dripping gore onto the flag stone beneath her bare feet.  
“Ga-Gabri-ellll.” Blood burbled at the wound, spurting from the artery in her neck causing her to cough more of the liquid onto the floor. The haunting likeness hobbled closer still and Gabriel starred at the blood, his body freezing with indecision. 

In an instant, his instincts won out and he dashed through the corporal image of Marie and for the blood pooled in the shadows. The blood screamed as Dracula growled, smashing his chaos gauntlet through the viscous mess of fluid. Vapour flew into the air, and the image of Marie faded a little behind him, still gurgling his name. Corrupt blood spewed itself onto the walls, crawling upwards, trying to escape.  
“Master! Master you need us!” Gabriel roared at the puddles, lashing his hardened blood whip through another one of the gloopy masses.  
“I need no one! Your petty images will not haunt me any longer! Now retreat to the shadows and stay there!” He held out a hand, eyes flaring ruby red, willing the liquid away and back to where it came from, fire licking at his wrists. The pools froze for a moment, as if paused in time, before slowly seeping back into the rocks, murmuring to itself as it went.

Dracula whipped back around, his coat flaring, the whip vanishing into smoke, and found the corporal version of Marie gone, not a drop of blood or piece of fabric left in its wake. The castle shuddered around him, unhappy but content to wait for now. The vampire glared at the stones before storming out of the throne room, his goblet of blood all but forgotten by the side of the throne. Quietly, Dracula strode out into the halls, slamming the huge wooden door, emblazoned with a dragon, closed behind him. His mood was foul, and his mind churned with horror as Marie’s blood covered face flashed before his eyes again. He had let his guard down, and the castle had punished him for it, willing to go to the lengths it could to warp his mind into staying with them, day and night. The halls were beginning to darken, and Dracula looked to the large clock in the foyer as it chimed the hour. The sun was beginning to set.

Alucard appeared before his father in the foyer as the sun set over the horizon. Sprites chirped as the younger vampire’s wolf spirit dashed into the room in a blur of blue and green energy. Alucard appeared where the wolf once stood, and the Sprites went about collecting the leaves and wiping away the dust the vampire had blown everywhere with his entrance. Dracula watched the busy little creatures absently, before returning to his study of a portrait hung over the main staircase. The painting depicted Gabriel and Marie, the warrior stood straight-backed, his gauntlet covered hand over Marie’s shoulder. She was sat straight, a warm smile on her face, radiant as always, a hand pressed against her abdomen. Gabriel, in a fit of rage had, long ago, torn his claws through the canvas, howling in anger, and had gashed his own face from the painting. Marie’s figure was the only distinguishable one anymore. Dracula reached towards the corners of the large painting and hefted it, slowly, down off the wall. Carefully he ran a finger, wistfully, over Marie’s face, before placing the painting down.

Alucard eyed the painting for a moment, his eyes lingering on the hand clutching Marie’s stomach, before he turned to his face, gold eyes betraying his curiosity. His father eyed him before gesturing to the painting.  
“After I thought I had killed you, I remembered I had recovered that picture from Marie’s father’s home. I never thought about her holding her stomach throughout the painting until the mirror revealed all that happened in my absence. She…” Dracula flexed his hands and furrowed his eyebrows, “She could have been carrying you even then.” He ran a hand over her stomach and was lost for a moment until Alucard spoke up.  
“You had no way of knowing, father. If you had, the world would not be as we know it now. I may never have gotten the chance to exist in that world.” He walked up to his father and gripped his shoulder, looking at the painting too.  
Dracula pondered for a moment, “But perhaps that fate-“   
Alucard squeezed his father’s shoulder and scowled, sighing, “Do not think on such things, father. The past cannot be undone, and we should be glad for the time we have now, even if it is an eternity.” Dracula looked up at his son’s small smile and nodded before signalling to the picture frame.  
“Have this moved and repaired. I want the image of the woman only.” The little sprites in the room nodded and babbled to one another as they fluttered around the canvas.

The castle groaned suddenly, demanding the attention of the two vampires, and Dracula glanced at the walls were spots of red appeared and receded back into the stones. Alucard caught site of the corrupted blood and growled, his hand flexing to summon the Crissaegrim from its pocket dimension. The blood hissed at him from the shadows, dripping down the top stones to scream at the vampiric spawn of its lord. Dracula grumbled in warning, eyes flashing, and the blood curled back in on itself forming a little puddle that muttered words to the elder vampire, and him alone. It seemed to still hold a grudge about Alucard helping his father to be free from its entrapments in his memories. The mass moved back up the wall, almost scuttling away again as his father finished listening to its whispering.  
“All the rune covered creatures have apparently been caught, with some help from that little Merman we encountered yesterday it would seem.” 

Alucard’s fears were correct then, the blood of his father had been performing tasks without Dracula’s will. It was a worrying sign that his father was losing his grip of reality again, but after just over a thousand years of life, and hundreds of that in a sleep which had erased all the memories he had. It was hard to adjust to having those painful memories shoved back at you, and Alucard could only imagine what his father was going through, adjusting to the new times and readjusting to the harrowing memories of his past.   
“All of them? Surely the castle could not have caught them all last night? Did you command the creatures to hunt them?” Alucard cursed his sudden uncharacteristic bout of concern, but watched his father’s face light up with amusement.  
“I only commanded a few to help the castle with retrieving the last few. The blood it seems, came in handy in pulling those foul demonic things here without killing them.” Dracula grinned and rolled his shoulders. “Now let us go and find out what foul beginnings these things have, son.” Nodding, Alucard followed his father, but the nagging concern persisted, wiggling in deep in the back of his mind. He could only watch and intervene should things spiral out of control.  
The dungeons were rife with energy and life. The Jailers screamed in their brutal language at one another, wrestling with the foul demon cursed creatures to try and contain them in their own cells or cages. A particularly nasty enchanted book flew by one of them and hissed in a strange tongue, driving the small Scaven in the creature’s hands wild. The Jailers scrambled to restrain the creature as it tore the side off one Jailer and turned to attack another, fangs slick with dark blue blood. A few grunts were dealing with containing the smaller creatures, but it appeared the castle was helping to nullify the monster’s demonic powers with the amount of blood rune wards laid around the place. One of the Jailer’s grunts saw them approach through the fiery lava door and scrambled to attract the attention of the Jailer to which it was assigned. The fiery eyed Jailer howled at the others and they quickly fell into line as the vampire lords approached. Dracula watched his blood swirl in the corners of the cell block, whispering words that only he could hear. 

“Bring me the Merman, I wish to speak to him first.” The jailers nodded and a few scrambled to fulfil the demand. Alucard sauntered off down into the cells, looking at the monsters with apathic glances, his nose upturned at the filthy twisted creations. The Merman was brought in a large cubical of water and the flared gills soon trilled with pleasure as he caught sight of his lord stood before him. Electric blue energy flared to life as the scaly creature reached a reverent hand out of the water to stroke at Dracula’s coal coloured tresses. Flinching, Dracula caught the hand and harshly moved it to the side before releasing it. The Merman whimpered at the denial but poked his head out of the water, large bulbous, glassy eyes blinking like an innocent lamb as the vampire tilted his head.   
“My lord.” It hissed placing its hands on the edge of the glass, runes flaring to life over its skin, “What can I do for you? Is the capture of these little pet projects not enough to please you?” Fangs glinted with electrical energy and Dracula smiled thinly at the aquatic monster at its poorly veiled attempt at the threat. Chortling the monster soon realised it was folly and touched a finger to the vampires palm, “Well, my lord?”

“I want to know what they did to you. Everything, what tools, what they said, everything you can remember.” Dracula’s eyes glowed brilliant red the nails of his fingers gripping at the creature’s face causing little pinpricks of blood to bloom under the armoured scales.   
The merman curled its tail in the water, electricity sparking across the back of the vampire’s hand, “I do not know, my lord. They carved the runes with obsidian tools and that is all I can remember. That and the pain…the chanting.” The monster’s eyes turned glassy as a haunted look set within them. Dracula watched his blood creep forwards from the shadows, slithering towards the monster, hissing words in an ancient tongue, nonsense and meaningful curses. It could show him what he wanted to see. He heard the clink of Alucard’s leg armour plates and saw the stained claws of his gauntlet twitch the flare of wolfish shadowed magic flaring to life across his finger-tips. The blood rolled over itself, bubbling with anger at the other vampire. Quelling it’s hissing, Dracula willed it up into the water and watched the Merman writhe with agony as the viscous fluid poured itself into its eyes and nose. His son shouted shooting forwards, cutting at ribbons of hardening blood, but Dracula could not hear, his conscious slipping into that of the merman, blurring them together as his form slipped from the room and into mist.

Agony. Pain. The searing of flash. His tail thrashed in the water before being pinned in place with an iron clamp, the metal holding the appendage against the bottom of the horizontal tank. Another cut into his stomach, the knife slicing through precious armoured scales along the creature’s abdomen. The darkened stone was sharp but rudimentary, slicing in jagged lines that sent splicing pain through his nerves. Howling, the Merman thrashed again trying to open its mouth, the electricity pouches of his cheeks sparking against its long tongue. The gag stopped the electricity from moving however, the rubber preventing movement of the voltage along its body as it was attached to two earthed rods outside the tank. The mutterings got louder, a chorus of men and women chanting as a needle was pulled from the blood-stained tray, the silver tip glinting in the grubby lighting. An intravenous line was attached to a pump across the other side of the room, and Dracula barely got a glimpse of the darkened squalor inside it before the needle was smoothly inserted under the creature’s scales and into a vein. Then the pain really started. The blood moved down the line and into the creature in a burst of shooting cold. The torturous feeling consumed the creature’s body and a priest appeared above it murmuring Latin softly before pulling out a silver rosary and painting the cross across the merman’s forehead. The last thing Dracula glimpsed was the flaring of the runes across the creature’s skin.

The vampire was expelled from the merman’s body with almost a physical shove, and he wheezed as his lungs inflated as though gasping for air. Alucard pulled him by the shoulders closer, his shadow magic burning across the cobbles to keep the screaming blood away from his father. Dracula’s eyes opened blearily, and he caught sight of the Merman, it’s body hung over the edge of the tank, its chest cavity open and innards draped across the floor, globular blue blood rolling down the glass of the little tank it had been in. The Jailers had pressed themselves into the shadows, quivering as the blood crawled up the walls, hissing like red snakes. Alucard pulled his chest upwards and sat him forwards, muttering Latin at the cursed blood, his shadow magic striking at the pooled gore like a viper every time it tried to move closer. Gathering his strength, Dracula cast out a hand and pushed the blood away, “Away with you, return to the walls.” The blood halted, as though paused in time, before receding back up the walls and into the cracks between the stone. 

Alucard let out a tired sigh and slumped over his father slightly, the magic flickering before going out. His eyes drooped a little, the gold dimming as fatigue over took him, “Thank god you woke up. I had been holding it at bay for… three hours.” His lips turned up in a playful but tired smirk, “Those Jailers of yours have not moved to even help me once, they’re petrified.” Dracula finally moved swiftly to his feet and caught Alucard with his arm before hefting his son up into his arms as he fell unconscious. The effort of using so much magical energy for so long had knocked him out, and Dracula muttered at his stupidly headstrong son before swiftly moving to transport him into his own room, leaving a large blood centre pack of blood by his bed for when he awoke. His ashen skin was pale against the red sheets and Dracula carefully placed the blankets over him before whisking away to deal with his useless Jailers with a show of brute force. One would need to die for the rest to fall into line. The screams of the pig like creatures filled the bowels of the castle for hours.

Alucard did not join him until the next day, his face still showing signs of fatigue and weariness. He sat down and compressed his spin into a large leather chair, his eyes closing as he relaxed before looking over at his father. Dracula peered over the top of his book with a raised eyebrow before snapping the spine to close the tome.   
“The creature wasn’t lying. They used obsidian tools. But what worries me is the brotherhood filtering mixtures of demonic blood and pouring it into creatures to make them more powerful and more twisted than before.” Dracula pinched his eyebrows together, watching the memories replay in his mind, “There was a priest. His face was scarred. It looked like burns on his neck. He wore a half face mask to hide them. A clergy it seemed were used to enchant the blood again, make it…powerful in some way.” Alucard watched him for a moment before leaning forwards.  
“That is troubling father. But what we still do not know, is why?” He linked black clawed fingers together, his cat like eyes observing his father. “We should probably investigate the man. But where to start in this modern age is difficult.” 

A smirk crawled across Dracula’s lips and he gazed at his son, his eyes burning through the dark hair that had fallen across his face, “As always my son, it seems we should start with the brotherhood. Their infernal meddling ways always lead to the answers.” His claws tore into the leather as his mind wandered to darker places and the blue flames on the wall roared with his anger. Alucard only shook his head before leaving the room, glancing over his shoulder as he closed the door, “Do not chase ghosts, father, it will only lead you in circles.” The door creaked closed before clicking and Dracula gazed at the burning logs of the fire, a pixie tittering behind him as it dusted the shelves of the library the only noise amidst the crackling of the wood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow who are you mister inspiration? Look another fart of inspiration from me. Smashing you in the face with the feels and some story progression and hopefully some nice gore that everyone totally wanted. Hope you all enjoyed now I'm going to go back to my basement until my next brain wave.

**Author's Note:**

> I should be writing other stuff but eyyyyyyyyyy. Guess what. More ideas that I may or may not continue. Anyway, more writing from yours truly when I probably should be asleep.  
> Replaying this game is really not doing me any favours!  
> I hope you enjoyed! Comments, kudos etc are all greatly appreciated!


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